Got me thinking about the point at which a person is supposed to hang up their dungarees and kickers, and take up their briefcase and shoes that click. The law in the
On the day of my first real live 9 – 5-job pay cheque, am I supposed to take down my Dragonball Z poster (yes I own one. And yes, I am proud) and burn my Mickey Mouse hoody (again, yes, I own one, and yes, it is hot)? Furthermore, will the world of work, along with its accessories, actually make me want to do said atrocious acts?
Yeah, I’m over the rhetorical questions too. But like I said, it got me thinking… At 21, most people wouldn’t hesitate to call me an adult. But I can’t help but think that I’m not quite ready yet. Not quite ready for the clicky shoes.