Thursday, July 6

Dear Pretty Young Professional Girl on the 7:44am bus: I love you.

Okay I don’t love you as much as I love watching you. On this early-am route people under-35-over-17 are few in number: so between the dads heading downtown and the pre-teens in private school uniforms, my morning people-watch is a pretty boring event. I don’t care about the outlandish 40-year-old woman in the lime green appliqué shirt with matching crocodile shoes. (She’s reading a Danielle Steel novel and wishing her own life was as compelling—how blah.) Nor am I concerned about the multitude of tech-workers wearing store-logo embroidered polo shirts.

What I care about is what you’re wearing this morning, Professional Girl. You’re the only other commuter on my bus who adds personal style to the horrid dress code known as “business casual”. While others are in outdated loafers and button-down cardigans* you always get on the bus in something cute. Angle-toed flats. Cropped trousers. Dainty accessories.

Yes, technically I am supposed to catch the 7:36am bus. (It allows me enough time to get to Starbucks before work begins, and there is nothing more satisfying than having achieved “regular” status, meaning the barristas just know my order and I get free baked goods.)

But there are only stylish men on the 7:36am bus and I can’t compare work-fashion trends with them. Also, I have discovered that my boss really doesn’t care if I am at my desk a tad late... so I don’t even have to sacrifice my Starbucks to see how you’ve styled your hair this morning.

Come to think of it, you’re really the only exposure I get to business-fashion trends. I work with engineers, Professional Girl, and while they are professional, they’re certainly more concerned about designing petrochemical plants than they are about the aesthetics of design. (Not to mention their lack of interest in all things pop culture! Even the summer eng students draw a blank face when I mention Broken Social Scene…)

So thank you Professional Girl, for making it worthwhile to be running late in the morning. You and I, we’re single-handedly setting the trendy bar for everyone else’s commute.

See you on Monday**,
Paige

*don’t get me started on cardigans—they are the horrible, boring loophole of business-casual attire.

**yes, another benefit of my job is that I have every second Friday off.