The Czarina faces a new challenge to go along with her new job. Of course there’s always the intellectual challenge of random people coming up to you and asking for “The Report” – and you have the choice of either saying something that sounds like “Bzuh?!” or “Urgh,” as you try and figure out what they’re talking about before you look like an idiot.

However, right now I’m talking about the challenge of how to dress for the office. The Czarina was working for herself for a while, and theoretically you can wear that shredded sweatshirt from undergrad with the traces of Palace Dog snot on it while you talk to clients on the phone. No one will be the wiser as long as webcams aren’t an integral part of your business.

No, I’m talking about a workplace in which you can actually wear jeans to work. I realize I’m going to get slapped here, because who doesn’t want that kind of job? It’s a challenge for me, though, because my Grandma beat into my head that a woman should never dress like a schlep for work or going out. As Coco Chanel once said, ““I like fashion to go down to the street, but I can’t accept that it should originate there.”

I’m a bit old fashioned this way and it’s hard for me to wrap my mind around jeans in a corporate environment. I don’t have a problem with overpriced designer jeans per se (assuming they’re good quality), because they are definitely prettier than they have been in the past. But to me, jeans = weekend. My mindset is different and my attitude is different when I put on a pair of jeans. I’m not thinking about The Report. I’m thinking about pulling Little Palace Dog off of Large Palace Dog, whether certain people on our street have freakin’ shoveled their sidewalk yet (YO…yeah, you on the corner. Are you trying to kill me?!), or thinking about what I have to get at Home Depot so our rainspouts don’t get stolen again. I am not thinking about work. Jeans are a magical off switch for me.

So I had two choices. I can 1) refuse to wear jeans and look like I’m too good for everyone or 2) wear jeans and try and deal. I chose #2, which at least gave me the opportunity to go shopping. The dirty little secret of “corporate casual” is that you have to have work jeans, just like you have work pants. You can’t go spilling martinis on your work jeans and you can’t run the risk of your thong showing. They’re for work. Your weekend booty peek won’t fly here.

In order to reconcile Grandma’s/Coco’s advice and the fact that one must fit into your particular office culture at least to a degree, I figured I would accessorize. But I’m not really one to dress up jeans so I needed to get some ideas. Where o where do I go?

Follow up:

First of all, can I just say: if anyone knows Tim Gunn, can you please send him over here? I have tried and tried to update the Czar’s look and he is just so resistant. I think he believes that male fashion is inversely proportional to maleness. He does seem to respect Tim a good deal so…Tim, you’re my last hope.

Maybe I should just accept that the Czar of our land will always wear clothing with holes….

Nah. I fight on.

Anyway, in an attempt to figure out what I was doing with the jeans, I read Tim Gunn: A Guide to Quality, Taste and Style. The book was OK. There were a few interesting tidbits, mostly related to closet purging and the strange admonishment that if I don’t own ballet flats I was missing out on fabulousness. Trinny and Susannah would say that ballet flats would make me look stumpy. I’ll take LackO’Stumpy for $500, Tim. All in all it didn’t really help me figure out what to wear so that the jeans were a fabulous, intellectually stimulating reflection of my high level of promotability.

I then turned to:

Nina Garcia’s The Little Black Book of Style for advice. Again, it was very similar to Tim’s, although I prefer Tim’s written voice. Purging the closet was also an integral topic, and it was interesting to get her perspective as someone who grew up with a fashion maven mom in South America. If you are also shy about developing your own style and taking fashion risks, she encourages you to do this and spends a lot of time convincing you to do it. That’s great but that’s not applicable to me. You are looking at a person who once owned a Zebra print overcoat. (The only reason I don’t have it now is that I’ve moved onto other things and it has a happy new home).

The part of the book that did help me is her advice that sometimes the best looks come from a combination of H&M and Prada, or another lower price point store mixed with designer items. She also feels like I do that logo stuff is a bit on the tacky side, so I felt validated there. But it wasn’t a how-to.

Finally, I broke one of my own rules and that’s what worked. Funny how that happens. Everything in moderation including moderation, I guess.

I really, really hate the idea of Lucky Magazine. The idea that you can have a successful magazine about shopping does nothing short of piss me off. Geez, people, if you love shopping and fashion don’t be ashamed OR lazy. You don’t need to buy a magazine that tells you what to buy. Come ON. Buy the Spring Vogue and the Fall Vogue and get an idea what’s in style and that’s that. And while I used to love InStyle, I now hate them. You may not feel the same. But that’s a rant for another day.

Lucky Magazine’s editors did print a book called The Lucky Shopping Manual: Building and Improving Your Wardrobe Piece by Piece. This book is just great. It shows what goes with what, how you can dress a pair of jeans up or down, how you can wear one piece in summer and winter. Just an awesome job, guys. Unlike the magazine it stays away from promoting specific items (although there are some designer profiles which are likely the editors’ friends) and just gives you a general idea of what to look for. The choice of designer or price point is yours, and that’s the most successful part of the book.

I do wish that Tim could have been my fashion genie to solve all of my workwear difficulties. Every time I see him on a show I squee. I don’t like team sports particularly and I’m not much of a fangirl in general. But for some reason none of that natural reserve applies to Tim. I do wish I could tell him of my workplace dilemma and have him look at what I picked out to make sure it’s okay. I’d even love to hear that trademark “I’m concerned” or be told “That’s a lot of look.” He could tell me my outfit looks like a grapejuice-stained Persian rug mated with a Venetian blind. I don’t care. It’s Tim.