For my first real job I had to wear a brown uniform
with brown, pink, orange and white stripes. They provided
the top and cap; I had to come up with brown pants.
Brown pants were not easy to find back in 1980-something.
My thin, cheap, acrylic brown pants came apart
at the seams more than once. I sewed them up by hand.
Who would waste good minimum-wage dollars
replacing ugly brown uniform pants?
My aversion to brown lasted for years.
No patterns with brown. No brown calicos
for patchwork quilts. No working at UPS!
Brown was for boots and belts and shoes.
So this morning when I put on a long sleeve brown shirt
and then pulled on a pink sweater over it, the pink came
immediately back off. Navy, I thought. Navy is nice.
Navy and brown are nice and dull—not the least bit revolting.
Today’s Poetic Asides prompt was to write a color poem. I searched the entire interwebs for photos of the old B-R uniforms. They were so godawful ugly that no one but this guy wanted to be seen in them. (The entire interwebs, people! That’s the only one I found!) But you know what was even worse? The “girl” uniforms were shaped to the female form with curved seams and darts, and they actually had to be zipped up the back!!! Aargh! Can you see why I am scarred for life?? (I know, I know—serious first-world problem. But really, people, it made honorable mention on this list of the seven worst restaurant uniforms ever.)
Not a very good poem, but just a tiny little bit cathartic.🙂