I’m willing to bet many of you reading this went to private school – some from kindergarten all the way to high school graduation but almost all in a uniform.
I guess the years of conformity became habitual, because I still see uniforms on campus.
For guys: polo shirt, khaki shorts or pants, loafers, complete with a North Face jacket if the weather gets nippy.
For girls: various T-shirts from some mixer or another, running shorts – tights under the shorts if it’s cold outside – spotless running shoes, which make you question if they really serve their intended use, and also the optional North Face jacket if it’s tights weather.
Tell me you can’t picture it.
Or maybe you don’t need to – just look out a window or in the mirror.
Now, I’m not knocking private schools, people who attend them or even uniforms in school. A proud holder of a public high school diploma, I may sound biased, but my parents, aunts, uncles and most of my cousins attended or are attending private schools.
I even had to wear a uniform for two years in middle school when my principal at the time decided to try them out.
I understand what it’s like.
What I don’t understand is why people want to stick with tired uniforms, even if they’ve changed from a plaid skirt to Nike running shorts.
College is a time when we’re supposed to grow our hair out, drink copious amounts of coffee and ask annoying “why” questions – at least that’s what I learned from watching “Saved by the Bell: College Years” while growing up.
But why do so many people cling to sameness with such tenacity?
Perhaps it’s the sense of identity people derive from knowing they’re dressing “the right way.” Or maybe I’m digging too deep, and it’s because after years of not having to pick out what to wear, uniforms are just easier.
Regardless of the cause, the effect is the same. Why not shake things up a bit? Why not celebrate that you don’t have to walk past mom and dad before you leave for class and get creative.
Do anything to save yourself from drowning in the sea of fleece pullovers.
Seriously, I know you own some jeans.
—-Contact Emily McArdle at [email protected]