I was given two chef’s coats when I started working and I wore them several times a week, washing them each time because I am apt to splatter on myself, getting massive sharpie stains on the sleeves (don’t ask, it left a large smudge of brown shades). I finally purchased some that actually fit me well and have become my mainstay uniform for work.
There is nothing quite like putting on my whites (a traditional set includes a toque or hat and hounds-tooth pants. My pants are black) and settling myself into work. And whites have nothing to do with being white. It’s just the term for the uniform. I love wearing my uniform. I love that it’s always clean and that I set myself aside from just wearing a t-shirt and apron. Don’t get me wrong, Coffeeman is frequently cooking in just a t-shirt and apron, but he gets hot up on the line. I don’t blame him. But he looks really nice in his different whites, which, now that I think about it, are not white. (I know you are reading this, sir… You do look nice in your shirts. I love the black with yellow piping…. just sayin’. ) He doesn’t wear white. He wears black, blue, gray, burgundy, green….. I love all the different ones he wears. I want one that’s like his blue gray one.
I wear white partly because that was the color I was designated with when I first started. But then it became a thing where I refused to wear black because several people in the kitchen of darker personalities thought I should wear black because they wore it. I work with flour. A lot of flour. From pastries to pizzas, I’d honestly like to know how I am supposed to look clean with a black shirt and white everywhere? Besides, my whites are easily cleaned and seriously, you don’t see too many marks.
I get a very settled feeling, just like when I mentioned settling into my work with a knife in my hand, by putting on my chef’s jacket. The last thing of my uniform is usually a bandana to keep my hair slicked back to kingdom come. But that feeling of slipping on my semi stiff white jacket…. It’s actually kind of sexy as well. At least to me. I just feel very professional and, well, sexy, in my uniform. I really can’t explain it at all. Kind of like how you step out of the house with lipstick and earrings on. It’s just something that is.
Tonight ( the night of the 10th) I spent most of the night in and out of the kitchen. But there was this young man (my age-ish) at the bar that was watching me work all evening when I was out front. Literally, all evening till when I clocked off and the kitchens were clean and closed. My job as of now puts me right out in front. I can’t hide, and there is this really amazing feeling of being semi in the spotlight. It’s a feeling I can’t explain, not exactly power, but maybe just this confidence thing that I’m learning to have a little more of it. I’m not usually one that really wants to be center stage. Oh sure, I like being important, everyone does, but I get nervous when I am in the spotlight. But tonight, being watched…. yeah, that was kind of cool. A lot of cool. I’m having more cool moments. And wearing my whites… yeah, that adds to it.