Look Everyone, Jeans!

I won’t lie—when I walked into my office this morning, I was convinced that it was shaping up to be a pretty crap day.  I had 20–30 pounds of REIT diligence waiting on my desk, had just heard that the hot, single new lateral on 55 is also the new chair of the Firm’s Gay and Lesbian Committee, and had become fairly certain that my new birth control pills are making my eyebrow hairs fall out.  But then I heard the ding of a new email hitting my inbox and all was right with the world again.  Why?  Because, friends, word’s just hit that this Friday is Jeans Day!

No, you’re not hallucinating: This Friday, in honor of the fact that all the partners will be at their annual state-of-the-Firm circle jerk at some resort in Arizona (“The cat’s away!”), associates and staff are going to be granted the privilege of wearing jeans to work.

Really?  REALLY?  Was the candy-apple carnage left by the Firm’s Happiness Committee not enough to murder whatever shred of dignity we BFAs have left?  Do we now need Jeans Day to extinguish whatever tiny, bleak flicker of hope we have that we’re not the biggest losers on the planet? What’s next? Ironic Wifebeater Day? Leave Your Bra At Home Day? Are our lives so unbelievably pathetic that the chance to wear different pants has become some kind of twisted reward, a chance for celebration?

(Oh, and free churros.  I forgot to mention that an integral part of Jeans Day is free churros in the Firm’s dining room at lunchtime.  But you probably knew that already.  After all, what do people do when they let loose, get naughty and wear jeans?  They eat churros!  Why?  Because it’s FUN!)

In all seriousness, though, I should mention—just to allay any concerns you may have about the potential tidal wave of unlawyerly impropriety brought on by the free-for-all orgy that is Jeans Day—that we have been advised to maintain the Firm’s business casual dress code while celebrating Jeans Day.  We need to maintain a sense of decorum, after all.  This isn’t some devil-may-care Hollywood office in Hollywood filled with Hollywood people, folks.  Or one of those internet dotcoms.  This is a Big Firm. Never forget that. Try as you might.

So, I’m getting ready for Jeans Day, alright. Come Friday morning, I’m gonna get out my snappiest pair of True Religions, fondle them gently…and toss them aside and put on the same black-pants, black-sweater uniform I wear every other day. Whatever the opposite of jeans is. Because this is what I’ve been reduced to. My BFA life is so numb that, yes, the refusal to wear casual pants is the only pathetic chance for rebellion I have—my only opportunity to feel alive.  It may be the saddest, most loserish stand in the universe, but goddamn it, I’m taking it.  I have to.  Hell, I might even wear a suit.