Frivolous - Dressorder __link__

Integrating these statement pieces into your life doesn't require a red-carpet event. It’s about the "high-low" mix:

He produced a photograph and slammed it onto the table. It showed Elara standing by the office water cooler. She was wearing a standard-issue grey pencil skirt and a white blouse, but over the blouse, she wore a vest. It was a vest made entirely of shimmering, iridescent sequins that shifted color from purple to gold depending on the light.

"This," Pembridge spat, "is a distraction. It is a 'frivolous dressorder.' It upsets the ecological balance of the workspace. It creates... visual noise."

Elara Vance stood at the polished mahogany table, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Across from her sat Mr. Pembridge, a man whose suit seemed to absorb the light in the room. He looked like a statue carved from disapproval.

"If you fire me," Elara said, "you set a precedent that conformity is more valuable than output. But if you let me stay, I agree to wear the grey button on days when the sun is shining. But on days like yesterday—on the grey days—I reserve the right to be the light."

The air in the arbitrator’s chamber was stale, smelling of old paper and the dry, rasping exhaust of the cooling unit. It was a room designed for gravity, for serious matters of contract and consequence.