Halloween & Co., Ltd., Inc.
Out of all the candy holidays Halloween is the best. It’s pure and unabashedly focused on that powder of the gods — sugar. And costumes. Now, what else does this remind you of? Think, think, think. Give up? The correct answer is, of course, corporate culture. Halloween is like corporate culture, which is also powered by sugar, in the form of candy dishes on desks, and costumes. This dress-up part is what I’d like to talk to you about today. See, business as we know it could be revolutionized by Halloween. And when business is better the economy is better.
Here’s the idea, and I’m talking only to the important corporate decision-makers here (you know who you are): Let us turn our backs on the traditional business attire established by the Sears & Roebuck catalog in 1886 — a suit and tie, cummerbund, corset, the whole nine yards. Instead, imagine a world where employees choose work apparel for originality and joy rather than sameness and expensiveness. Your employees might come to work sporting a Spongebob Squarepants refrigerator box, gigolo duds, or the peanut butter sandwich outfit. Doesn’t the economy sound better already?
Let us further illustrate with a moving story. Ahem.
Once upon a time there was an airport. A jet plane flew in the sky above, and for the adults inside it was like any cold old weekday workaday. Maybe it was Monday or maybe it was two Mondays before that. Ho hum. Yawn. The jet roared to a landing and passengers slumped out, each bent under 35 pounds of black laptops, phones, and blue corporate logos. That is, every passenger but one — one solitary individual upon whose head was perched a rubber chicken beak with red floppy comb. Because everyone was bowed and downtrodden, the chicken went unnoticed, and nobody picked up her happy chuckle as the costumed clucker stepped lightly through the terminal, headed for a strategic business meeting. The poultry got onto her bus and left. Everyone else in the airport was late. And grumpy. Boo. Hiss. Soon after, this chick would be made President of a Big Important Company and retire rich. Everybody else was eaten by a wolf. Probably a werewolf. The End.
In conclusion, a personal plea goes out to corporate business managers around the globe: Listen up! Loosen up! More originality, vitality, and pluck; less Werewolf Kibble™! Less hollow. More hallow. Een.
Here’s the idea, and I’m talking only to the important corporate decision-makers here (you know who you are): Let us turn our backs on the traditional business attire established by the Sears & Roebuck catalog in 1886 — a suit and tie, cummerbund, corset, the whole nine yards. Instead, imagine a world where employees choose work apparel for originality and joy rather than sameness and expensiveness. Your employees might come to work sporting a Spongebob Squarepants refrigerator box, gigolo duds, or the peanut butter sandwich outfit. Doesn’t the economy sound better already?
Let us further illustrate with a moving story. Ahem.
Once upon a time there was an airport. A jet plane flew in the sky above, and for the adults inside it was like any cold old weekday workaday. Maybe it was Monday or maybe it was two Mondays before that. Ho hum. Yawn. The jet roared to a landing and passengers slumped out, each bent under 35 pounds of black laptops, phones, and blue corporate logos. That is, every passenger but one — one solitary individual upon whose head was perched a rubber chicken beak with red floppy comb. Because everyone was bowed and downtrodden, the chicken went unnoticed, and nobody picked up her happy chuckle as the costumed clucker stepped lightly through the terminal, headed for a strategic business meeting. The poultry got onto her bus and left. Everyone else in the airport was late. And grumpy. Boo. Hiss. Soon after, this chick would be made President of a Big Important Company and retire rich. Everybody else was eaten by a wolf. Probably a werewolf. The End.
In conclusion, a personal plea goes out to corporate business managers around the globe: Listen up! Loosen up! More originality, vitality, and pluck; less Werewolf Kibble™! Less hollow. More hallow. Een.
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