Dockers has issued the advertisement seen below. The ad shows a man confidently wearing his Dockers biz caz while sitting on a couch that is presumably in the employees’ lounge of the man’s office. A female coworker, also dressed in Dockers biz caz, is apparently unable to resist the man’s wrinkle-resistant attire and jumps on top of him. Sure, they may get escorted to the street by security for this workplace hanky panky but she can’t be to blame. The man is wearing Dockers.
We here at the Biz Caz Blues are showing this advertisement to you, the reading public, to warn you that wearing biz caz may not cause most people to become absolutely irresistible to the opposite sex. Actually, it’s highly unlikely to happen to anyone. You have been warned.
We here at the Biz Caz Blues don’t believe in the paranormal. At least, we didn’t until last week. Last week, we posted a helpful list of biz caz clothing items to be worn for people who hate themselves. At the end, we asked readers to let us know if we missed anything.
Well, one astute reader, with the exotic first name of dkzody (what were her parents thinking?!) eloquently commented, “Shoes, you missed shoes….”
She was right, of course. But just then we received an email about a sale on Dockers shoes at the local department store. The email showed a picture of a type of Dockers shoes (see below) that can only be described as nothing less than soul crushing.
They are the ultimate shoes for those who hate themselves. First, wearing anything by Dockers shows that you hate yourself. Second, the braided belt look is incorporated in these shoes. And third, wearing them will make you lose your sex drive while simulatenously preventing anyone from wanting to have sex with you.
Receiving the comment from dkzody and this email about the Dockers shoes at the same moment made it seem that the biz caz God, Lumbergh (pictured below), was trying to contact us from the great cubicle in the sky. Spooky.
I tapped lightly on the door with the big knuckle of my middle finger. Dr. Susnow turned from his computer screen to face me. He was wearing a sky-blue, long-sleeve cotton dress shirt. He had short, curly brown hair that was receding a bit and a bushy mustache.
I thought he resembled Magnum P.I. until he stood to greet me and I noticed that instead of cutoff jeans, he wore pleated khaki pants with a braided belt that held a cell phone holster with the cell phone, an empty Blackberry holster and a pager. It was a rare hat trick of belt-supported electronica; a mid-manager’s tool belt, if you will. He looked like what Magnum P.I. would have looked like if Magnum moved back to the mainland and got a job at Best Buy.
Dr. Susnow stood and shot his hand toward me. “You must be Robert,” he said. I hesitated. I was still stuck on the fact that Magnum P.I. wore cutoff jeans. I’d never thought about it until just now. I wondered if Jeans Friday would evolve (or devolve, depending on one’s perspective) to the point where cutoff jeans are acceptable.
I finally reached out and shook the doctor’s hand. “Just call me Rob,” I said.
Posted in One Man's Diagnosis of Biz Caz Blues
Tagged Best Buy, Blackberry, Business Casual, Diagnosis, Dockers, dress code, holster, Magnum P.I., Mustache, Pager, Psychiatry
While there are certainly a host of ills associated with biz caz, the relaxed dress code does have some redeeming features. For example, study after study has demonstrated that workplaces that have implemented a biz caz policy have an exceedingly smaller number of violent incidents than those that have not implemented such a policy.
The biz caz trade association, the Smart and Casual Officewear Federation (SACOF), uses these studies as a way to promote its agenda of having a biz caz dress code in every office in every country. Although the biz caz movement clearly emerged victorious from the bloody officewear wars of the 1980s and 90s, SACOF is not a group to rest on its laurels. It knows that part of what won the war–in addition to biz caz muscle–was propaganda. And propaganda is what will keep biz caz in power.
An example of such propaganda is SACOF’s recently released commercial showing the violence that is all too common in a non-biz caz office. The commercial is titled, “Office Worker Goes Absolutely Insane.” The commercial is hard hitting and its message is clear: If this man had been allowed to wear Dockers instead of a suit, his coworkers would be in a lot less pain now, especially the lady who caught a computer monitor with her face.
Wearing “business casual” or “biz caz” has the same effect on a person as getting neutered has on a dog. It is as if one lops off their metaphorical testicles everytime one zips up the fly on one’s khakis.
And with those gonads goes one’s passion, laughter, sex drive and general appetite for life. No one has ever pumped their fist in the air and exclaimed “carpe diem” while wearing a Blackberry holster on the braided belt that holds their Dockers high.
In a way we are luckier than the altered canine because our amputation can be undone simply by peeling off our smart but casual clothes at the end of each sedentary day. The pooch can never go back. At the same time, Fido may be the fortunate one as he only suffers the cut of the knife once while we are subjected to it four times a week (jeans Friday!), every week.
But, we wanted this. We fought long and hard to be released from behind the pinstripe prison bars of the business suits. We wore down our older office managers until they finally relented and allowed cotton fabrics to grace the cubicles. After claiming victory in the bloody dress code wars of the 1980s and 1990s, we found ourselves in a new prison, one of our own–and Banana Republic’s–design.
Posted in Biz Caz News
Tagged Banana Republic, Biz Caz, Business Casual, cotton, cubicle, Dockers, dress code, fabric, jeans, khaki, wars of the 1980s and 1990s