Janie does not make the rules. However, it always seems to fall to her to tell everyone else exactly what the rules are. It doesn’t help that Janie is an older lady, one might even say from the old school, who seemed to me to be the epitome of a 1960s era secretary–pardon me, Administrative Assistant in 2009.
Before we moved into the new building, everyone saw Janie as a stickler for the rules, and traditional with it. There were to be NO OPEN TOED SHOES. Of course, there were always a few of the more fashionable women who couldn’t abide by this rule, and sense Janie was on the first floor and we were on the third, they flaunted their peeptoe shoes with reckless abandon. Whenever Janie came by, toes would be shoved under desks like contraband. When she passed, they would slowly be brought back out, and heads would crane to see where she was. Did she catch me? Did she see?
Of course, we had food at our desks then. It’s easy to keep these rebellions down to the most die hard fashionistas when you feed people. You know what they say about bread and circuses.
Janie sent around the email stating that we COULD NOT EAT AT OUR DESKS in the new building. There was a bunch of grumbling from the masses. Most people, especially the men, could care less about being about to bare their toes or flaunt their boobs, but banning food from our workspace was crossing the line. I knew there would be some backlash. Since we are all peons and can’t openly thwart management, I wondered how it would happen.
Then came the great toe rebellion. It started with toes, then went to the whole foot. Now instead of peeptoed pumps, there were wedge sandals and near flip flops. Pedicured toes everywhere. Smooth and not so smooth heels as far as the eye can see. One Assistant Manager started to bring the girls out more frequently, wearing smaller and smaller tops. I even saw Janie wearing wedge sandals after the first few months.
The Great Toe Rebellion succeeded on one front. No one blinks an eye at a bare foot, let alone a toe. But we never got the right to have snacks at our desks back. We grumble about it though. Me? I was just a lowly temp at the time and needed my job, so I didn’t get to participate. So here’s my little act of rebellion.
Almost forgot…this picture came from an article in Marie Claire about a single guy who thinks he might have a foot fetish.