collegethoughts

My high school had a “dress code”–which in reality was a uniform of a white collared shirt (no skin) and navy blue trousers (not too tight) or skirts (not too short) that we were allowed to assemble from any store, giving ourselves a false sense of freedom.  This aspect of high school life has supplied me with many fond memories:–feeling like a rebel when I wore black trousers, dark jeans, colorful undershirts, or collarless shirts.  –feeling foolish when teachers called me out on these violations and sent me home to change.  (instead I would grab a–usually oversized–replacement from the lost and found bin in the nurse’s office)– being informed by Mr. Salt that I was wearing “bum hugging trousers”–the exhilaration of “mufti,” the one day a month when, for 200 baiza (50 cents) we were allowed to wear our own clothing.  there is no reason anyone should ever get so excited about wearing jeans and t-shirts.–one of our student council(or Fiona)’s many battles with the admin: the fight for the right to wear black trousers/skirts.  It was a long, arduous struggle but we won. 

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