Attack of the clones

Row after row of identically clad automatons marching in step, fixed purposeful expressions on their grim identical faces, an unstoppable human wave with the power to overcome any obstacle in their path. I could be talking about Waffen SS rallies in Berlin in the forties (cool uniforms, bad attitude), I could be talking about Japanese salarymen preparing for another day at the orifice (but I didn’t mention calisthenics and company songs so it can’t be them) I could even be talking about the clone army featured in the Star Wars films (cool uniforms, bad attitude – similarities anyone?) but its not them either. I’ll put you out of your misery (and I don’t mean by lethal injection, we aren’t in Texas, although Toto might be forgiven for thinking we were) I am referring of course to the glorious vision of our dear revered leaders. Their utopian dream of identical office upon office of robotic staff with no personal lives and no concept of questioning the status quo lest you be assigned to a re-education camp. All you need to do is add padded pajamas, not enough to rice to go round and a megalomaniac dictator that looks like a fat(ter) version of Elvis and you’d have the sunny climbs of North Korea.
The reason, in case you were wondering where I am going with this is that our latest ‘dress code policy’ edict has been circulated. Whilst some of it makes sense i.e. ‘clothing that bears profane or offensive words or logos is strictly prohibited’ (bangs goes half my wardrobe) some of this stuff is positively draconian and is generalised in such a way as to be impossible to comply to, for example what does ‘Clothing should not be distracting’ mean exactly?? or ‘Clothing should not be tight or exceptionally loose’, that pretty much covers everything from arseless PVC chaps all the way through to your sackcloth burkha!
Do they refer to the blonde from accounts with the spray on summer dresses because believe me that’s distracting and definitely too tight or does it possibly refer to the middle aged (generally I.T. staff) who sport badly knitted and loud jumpers over the Christmas period (while I come to think of it, there is always one sad individual that wears a tie with a picture of a reindeer complete with flashing red nose, surely that MUST fall foul of something in the dress code!)
Whilst we are on the subject of dress codes, I have noticed a definite gender divide in how strictly staff adhere to them. Male staff generally (with the exception of the Goths, Emos and those guys that take waaaay too long doing their hair in the mornings and wear uncomfortable pointy shoes) tend to wear trousers and a shirt sometimes with a tie if they have meetings, this doesn’t vary come rain, wind , shine or nuclear winter. The ladies on the other hand change their outfits more often that I change my socks (once a week if you count swapping them over onto the other foot) a two degree change in temperature that your average man wouldn’t even notice has them all running home to swap jumpers and leather boots (oh yes!) for strappy tops and open toes sandals (oh yes!) or vice versa.
Like the laws about cycling on the pavement when you were younger (it is actually illegal by the way, my father was arrested for it when he was a butchers delivery boy back in the dark ages) these rules are just to pay lip service to ,there to give one of the nameless, faceless bureaucrats something to do. After all who can I report our HR director to when I see her in an outfit that contravenes subsection 4 paragraph 3a of the good taste act, the only person higher than her is God and he is far too busy causing mischief in the Middle East to bother about a middle aged woman dressed like a pre-teen Latvian prostitute.