The date: Wednesday, May 16, 2012
The place: The Putnam County Justice Center in Cookeville, TN
The crime:
The description: That, kids, is a mini-backpack of the Vera Bradley variety. Neither of those are things that I particularly enjoy. I especially do not enjoy them when they are brought into a courtroom.
As a purse.
By a female attorney who I’m going to guess is in her mid-forties.*
*This is not to say I would enjoy it being brought into the courtroom by a female attorney of any age. Unless that age was 5 and then I would be way too busy being astonished by the Doogie-Howser-esque child prodigy in my midst to be concerned about her handbag choice.
Now I have a firm rule that if I am in a courtroom and in front of a judge, I am wearing a blazer. I’m not always wearing a matching suit (because I hate them), but I am always wearing an appropriate jacket with a skirt, pants or dress of some sort. The female attorneys of Putnam County, Tennessee have no such rule. In fact, the first time I made an appearance there I saw a female attorney wearing a turtleneck sweater with a mini-skirt and knee boots – and no one asked her to go home and change. I was floored.
The attorney carrying the offending backpack above was wearing an outfit virtually identical to this one:
(Head chopped off to protect the innocent blogger from whom I stole this photo who probably doesn’t want to be used as an example of bad fashion on a judgmental stranger’s website.)
There’s nothing inherently wrong with this outfit. There’s nothing particularly great about it, but there’s nothing super-terrible about it either. The difference is that this nice lady is not wearing her cardigan and casual black pants while she is representing clients for pay in front of an elected judicial official. And therein lies my point.
The lesson: Bright orange mini-backpacks are not for grown-ups. Actually let’s make that mini-backpacks of any type, shape, material and/or color are not for grown-ups. And they are certainly not for use in a professional setting. Of any kind. Ever. If it’s quilted and printed, save it for the weekends, kids.
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