I had a short interview this morning

For some part-time, maybe temporary work. It’d be fun work so I’d be happy to get it but it’d be a lot of hours so I’d also be happy not to. (Hey, if you’re not into interviewing? Don’t start freelancing because it never ends.)

Madison’s neck is fine and she is growing like crazy. That’s what the doctor’s visit told us. I need to find the little kid pics we have of Pennie because it’s amazing how much Madison is following in her growth/body-type footsteps. I put them somewhere safe, which means I may never find them. Drat!

This interview reminded me of the time I went in for an afternoon to do some work at a hot shot fashion company here in town just about a year ago. To ward off google-juice, I’ll only tell you that this company specializes in women’s underwear, usually makes the models wear wings at their fashion shows and used a diamond-encrusted brassiere to net some PR a few years back. Got it? Know who it is now? Ok.

Some of you who live here and are in the same field that I’m in (or something similar) have been to their offices but likely many of you haven’t and lemme tell you — it’s an experience. You walk in and there’s blazing techno coming in over the speakers. I mean, it is LOUD. It’s an impressive entry anyway with a two-story ceiling and an escalator and lots of white and pink plus enormous banners of half-naked women. When I was there most everyone was wearing form-fitting black and they all looked Very Serious about the selling of expensive underwear. (I’m a Hane’s girl myself so this is all foreign to me. Except for two decades back when I wore garter belts to go out dancing — in short skirts, natch — this particular store is not one I have much patronized.)

It’s cubicle-land there with low walls so that no one can ever feel truly alone and there are life-size cardboard cut-outs of their most famous models propped up against people’s desks. And scads of panties, bras, etc. on desks, slung over cubicle walls and pinned to bulletin boards. In the halls are more enormous pictures of half-naked women and I kept turning corners and finding myself face-to-face with some model’s navel or cleavage. Honestly, if it’d be any other company putting that stuff up there the employees would be screaming sexual harassment but it’s kosher if you’re selling the tiny triangles they’ve got covering their girly bits.

No one seemed to be having a good time there. Again, they take selling underwear Very Seriously as evidenced by the way my underwear jokes fell flat. But c’mon — they were paying me (honest to goodness) to research the difference between “tap pants” and “side-cut shorts.” I spent quite a long time hanging out on web sites that are banned at other companies staring at yet more pictures of half-naked women and carefully cataloging the results of my search.

I have a friend who got his start in fashion PR at this company and he recalls one hectic day when he was there long after-hours (getting ready for a huge marketing push) that somehow ended up with him dancing down the cubicle aisles wearing the diamond underwear on his head. That is until one of his co-workers said, “You know [name of model] was just on Leno wearing those panties under very hot lights. And it’s not machine-washable.” My chastened friend promptly removed them.