Only time I had someone complain about my clothes was at the garden centre when this senile old hag said to me, "Why can't you iron your shirt before you put it on?" This was near to closing time, at around 5:00 and I wearily pointed out to her that I'd put on a clean ironed shirt this morning, but since I'd been working here since 8:30, my shirt was bound to show a few wrinkles at 5pm. She just went "Oh," and walked off.
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