If you haven’t heard an exchange of “worst boss” stories between colleagues, then you’ve never stayed at work drinks long enough.
It’s almost a right of passage to be employed by somebody who makes your skin crawl, so it is with absolute pleasure I share my own tale.
During my university years I worked at a luxury retail brand that prided itself on its presentation of staff and products.
I loved it. I was paid well to talk nonsense (seriously, no, seriously) and genuinely help people purchase something that made them happy.
The company was all about presenting a united front and so our appearances had been regulated from toe-to-tip. I often had to stifle a snort every time I heard a customer remark, “Gosh. You all look so alike.”
One day our boss decided the robot-levels of uniformity on the shop floor simply weren’t enough, so he introduced the “rule of five”.
The rule of five meant female members of staff were only allowed on the shop floor if they were wearing five items of make-up or more.
Ideally: eyeliner, foundation, nail polish, mascara and lipstick.
Male staff could waltz around bare-faced so long as a comb had at some point graced their hair that day, but we weren’t offered such a luxury.