Uniform Dressing
By Emma Freer
Of all the things I miss about high school – my dear friends, my smart teachers, my access to a car – the thing I miss most is my beloved uniform. Sure, it was hardly fashionable: old polo shirts from the children’s department. Tired plaid skirts with pen marks on the hem. Navy tights with holes everywhere. Sports bras. No makeup, ever. One benefit of attending an all-girls school, it must be said, is that the standards for looking good are laughably low.
Last day of my senior year, last day in my uniform.
In the summer before my first year at university, I was in a real panic. Because I had spent the last four years wearing a uniform everyday, my wardrobe was severely lacking. (However, I did have enough navy sweaters to last a lifetime.) I went on a spending spree, trying to make up for lost time and to ensure that I would be sufficiently clothed at my new, uniform-less school.
At first, the thrill of variety was exciting. I could wear whatever I wanted. Each morning was the promise of a new day, a new look, a new style. Emma 2.0, university-edition. But this got old, pretty quickly. More often than not, I would spend my early mornings deliberating what to wear and wishing I had my old uniform to fall back on. Dependable, appropriate for all seasons, comfortable – what more could a girl ask for?
Now that I’m three years out of high school, I’ve developed something akin to a university uniform in its stead, if there even is such a thing. Every day, I put on a pair of slim-cut, ankle-crop trousers. Some are jeans, some are cords. Different colors, different textures. But, really, all my options pretty much look the same and can be worn interchangeably. Which is exactly how I like it.
Not a flare in sight.
I top it off with a belt, perhaps, and some loose top. Maybe a sheer tee, or a slouchy sweater. Some blouse-type thing if I’m feeling fancy. Add some flat shoes, a boxy jacket, maybe a scarf for warmth, and I’m out the door. Even my makeup routine is intentionally boring, rarely deviating from my established norm. The biggest change I’m liable to make is to switch from brown eye shadow to brown eyeliner.
Neutrals or nothing (because neutrals go with everything).
It’s not that I don’t love clothes. Or makeup. Or accessories. I love all of these things, and, when I have the time to really enjoy it, I revel in the opportunity to get all dressed up. However, I think once you’ve been exposed to the ease and freedom of a uniform, it’s hard to abandon it.
Wearing a uniform is often criticized as a homogenizing mandate imposed on schoolchildren. In my experience, though, a uniform allowed me and my classmates to leave any superficial differences at the school doors. We were forced to differentiate ourselves on the basis of our personalities and interests. And we were made to feel comfortable and secure around each other because there were no expectations for how we ought to look during the school day.
The pressure to present oneself in a certain way at university, or anywhere, can be overwhelming. St Andrews, especially, has a reputation for being highly fashionable, full of would-be models and the filthy rich. I’m glad I had the experience of wearing a democratizing uniform, and I’m relieved to have developed a system to avoid the stress of coming up with a brand new look everyday. I’m not Cher Horowitz. Although, it’s worth noting that we both enjoy a good plaid skirt.