As part of my new employment position, I'm expected to adhere to a "dress code." Now, I've been an extreme adversary to dress codes pretty much all my life. I've traditionally viewed dress codes as a controlling business model construct designed to ensure conformity and obeisance, which is a wordy way of saying I prefer jeans and tee-shirts.

But now I understand adhering to a dress code can mean more money, so I'm okay with it.

The thing is, my wardrobe, if it can be called that, has been particularly anemic when it comes to more formal attire; it's chock full of jeans, cargo pants and tee-shirts, but collared long sleeved shirts, Dockers and ties typically inhabited only a small corner of my closet, worn infrequently during formal events.

So I've been experiencing a sort of metrosexual learning curve, so to speak, over the past couple of weeks. I've been purchasing dress shirts, and ties, and pants that have things called "pleats," which I can only assume are the leg equivalent of "gusset plates." In other words, I guess you could say I'm being forced, by salary dictate, to grow up.

One thing I've noticed about more formal dress clothes is they are chock full of completely unnecessary features. A couple pairs of my dress pants, for example, come equipped with 2 buttons, in addition to a zipper. Seriously, what possible purpose does the second button serve? I'm pretty sure the pants will remain at hip height if secured with only one button and a zipper. But, no, somehow, somewhere, a Prada-wearing devil decided two buttons should be the required norm, even though both buttons will be obscured by a belt, which also isn't necessary, but has been deemed a required accessory by the fashionazis of the world.

I'd probably be okay with the two-button pants paradigm, but what I've discovered is, after laboring to secure both buttons following a good urination session, I tend to forget about the zipper. I've been programmed, thanks to many consecutive years of wearing jeans, to think "button, zipper, done." Now, of course, I have to think in terms of "button, button, zipper, done," which just doesn't compute quite yet, so I tend to favor a hybrid model of "button, button, done."

Obviously, the hybrid model completely disses the zipper, so I routinely find myself looking down at my pants at some point during the day and realizing "Oh, crap! My zipper's down! How long have I been walking around like this?"

It's at that point that I just kind of stand there and think about all the important people I've spoken with since my last pee break, and waves of embarrassment wash over me like a hot bath, all of which would never happen if I had simply been allowed to wear jeans and a tee shirt.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I think my zipper's down.