Uniforms

          One of the (many) things I thank my parents for is sending me to private Catholic schooling for thirteen years.  Not only did I receive an exemplary education in small sized classes and met some of my closest friends, I was also forced to wear incredibly conservative uniforms. I already know what you are thinking: "Why would anyone want to wear a Catholic school uniform for even one day, let alone 3, 380 days?" And when put in those large of terms, it does sound pretty horrendous. The Catholic school uniform has received a bad reputation for numerous reasons. On the one hand, it has been seen as a demarcation of the well-to-do, the thought being that only the wealthy can afford private academies. On the other hand, Catholic school girls have the luck of being seen as particularly promiscuous, compliments of both the beautiful Britney Spears and Nabokov's lovely Lolita. Unfortunately, the guy's uniform didn't provide that great of an impression either. The tie, button-down, and dress slacks said you owned a yacht, played lacrosse on the regular, and were obsessed with your dental hygiene. Add a cardigan to that ensemble and you are dating someone incredibly popular. I mean, what if Ginger/Poppy/Michelle gets cold in Latin class? It would be in poor taste not to have something to offer her.
          Fortunately, I am here to bust through those antiquated stereotypes. I was neither a trust fund baby nor a tempting tarte. I was an A- student. I played xylophone in the marching band. I was an alto in every chorus I could get into. I was in bed by 11:00 every night, midnight under special circumstances. I was about as wild as a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos, and liked it that way. However, wearing a uniform ultimately helped me in my path of self-expression. I know, I know, that sounds very New Age of me but be patient. First, by making the decision as to what to wear for me every morning, my uniform allowed me to focus on that things that were really important in the turbulent life of a angsty teenage girl: relationships, books, band practice, the school newspaper, and general tomfoolery. Second, it pushed me to think creatively, editorially about how I was going to dress when I wasn't wearing the uniform. Weirdly two-fold, right? I saw those rare dress down days as Lancaster Catholic Fashion Week. I had a limited amount of time to show off my style, and hell if I was going to waste them; I didn't want to wear the Victoria's-Secret-sweatpants-and-sassy-screen-print-baby-tee that the rest of my classmates were wearing. It seemed like every year I brought a different look to the hallways: preppy, punky, glamorous, classic. My personal style really exploded when I finally reached college and didn't have to worry about limited time for expression. College was all about personality and expression. My friends were amazed at my discipline in dressing well but it only came about through the oppressive years spent in plaid and knee socks. 
          As a recent graduate equipped with a degree in English literature, it is no surprise my current and (somewhat) dead end job requires me to wear a uniform. Now, I'm not going to confess where I work but I will say the wardrobe is not only unflattering but also boring as toast: black shoes, black slacks, white dress shirt... and a tie. Yep, even for the ladies. While some may bitch and complain about the outfit, I took it as a challenge. I thought about how I could express myself within the accepted perimeters. I choose to wear pumps instead of flats, high waisted flares, a pink paisley silk tie, and a dramatic red lip every so often.  Most importantly, I express myself through my attitude; people can tell I'm a stylish biddie even by the way I answer the phone.
          If you are confined to a uniform for school, business, or pleasure (I'm not one to judge what you do when the lights are off, friends...), fear not! There are ways to show exactly who you are and what your vibe is. It could be in the way you style your hair, the stickers you place on your name tag, the cut of your pants, or the pattern on your socks. Or maybe it can be seen in your general swag, your strut, your je ne sais quoi. There are always loopholes around The Man (unless your incarcerated but if that is the case, you are probably not reading a style blog). And remember to always smile, no matter the situation. A frown is one-size-fits-none, sunshine.