I'm not uniform

In general, I am anti-uniform. I truly believe that uniforms stamp out individuality and that is a crime. Expressing yourself through your clothing is pretty much what I am all about. I think being dressed like everyone else makes you feel helpless and defeated.
Ok, I'm not going to lie, the real reason I hate uniforms is because uniforms hate me.
They started it.

I personally do not have a figure for uniforms (none of them). Every uniform known to man makes my thighs look bigger, my legs look shorter, my ass gigantic, it just plain brings out all of my worst qualities and to make matters worse there is always that stupid bitch who looks amazing in whatever potato sack she's given. PS and by the way, that stupid bitch is usually my friend and is therefore constantly standing next to me like a giant neon "I'm with fatty" sign.
My greatest fear is being in one of those "Who Wore it Best" features. Ugh.

That being said, I'm not thrilled with the burden of freedom that I have at my new job. I know, I'm very hard to please, but hear me out. As a waitress you have some interesting obstacles when it comes to choosing clothing. You need something that represents who you are and yet can withstand the constant threat of destruction. Can you love your clothes and yet be willing to let them go when they are attacked by red wine, sweat and bleach? I'm not that evolved. That kind of thinking really goes against my hoarding instincts. Shoe options are restricted to comfortable which creates an interesting obstacle. Everything has to look good with or without an apron. On the plus side, I think aprons are flattering and I'm considering incorporating them into my non-work fashion.

I was a huge fan of the "all black" dress code at my last restaurant because
a) black is flattering
b) black hides a mess
c) I had specific work clothes which eliminated difficult decisions and piles of discarded outfits
d) All black looked like a uniform but with none of the drawbacks of an actual uniform (see above)

There isn't anything saying I can't wear all black at my new job.
But somehow that feels like cheating. I mean, I am a style therapist. I have a reputation to consider.
And what would I do with all the things I just bought "ya know, for work."