As I was getting dressed today morning I noticed how my clothes were wrinkled, and immediately remembered how I once had to listen to a young lady who spent a whole half an hour talking about how a certain colleague of hers always shows up to work with non-ironed clothes. I mean, how dare he! Sho 3aib!
Yes, how dare he? Because, you see, what you wear determines how much respect you show people and how much respect you are entitled to. What you wear is what you are. Your thoughts about the world, your principles, your genuine concern about humans as humans is secondary. If you’re not wearing the right garments, no one will pay attention to the person inside them. Or worse, you’ll be judged.
Is it really that awful to be judged anyway? I mean, aren’t we all judged in the end of the day? Who exactly are we trying to fool? Our friends? Our colleagues? Our scholars? God? Ourselves?
Hypocrisy is very easy to apply. It ensures fast revenue and brings you virtually closer to what you want. But what are your priorities in the end of the day?
I added flip-flops to my wrinkled short skirt and went off to work. My Blackberry had already started beeping.