As the weather gets warmer, students can once again expect to hear the yearly reminder issued by the school on how to appropriately dress. While it is agreeable to most that no private parts should be visible (i.e. anything discussed in health class), I find the word “private” takes a new meaning when walking through these hallowed halls.
I never once considered my shoulders to be of public concern, nor my knees. I’m flattered that they’re appealing enough to be considered a “distraction.” The million dollar question is who exactly am I distracting? Surely it cannot be my female classmates, who compliment me on my clothing frequently.
If it is, rather, my male classmates then I’m disappointed in what this place of learning is really teaching us. Rather than instructing their young pupils how to correctly address a young woman, this dress code is telling the male students they should give respect solely on appearance and any inappropriate behaviors on the part of the boy are deserved, for it is the girls fault for daring to dress so “inappropriately.” If this is the case, perhaps our young learners should be taught self-control, for there are no dress codes beyond these walls, and I’m tired of having to carry pepper spray in my purse.
Dear reader, please do not misconstrue my message. I am not for anyone running around half naked. Frankly I don’t think my mother would let me out of the house if my clothing was too scant. But I have certainly had my run-ins with the long arm of the so called law. It is humiliating and degrading to hear “your shorts are too short” and to be pulled from the halls. It reduces one’s self image to feel as though one was standing on street corners rather than walking down the halls in the latest fashion. Blame the fact that my shorts do not reach the desired length on the possession of genetically improper fingers and bean pole arms, but please remember that (contrary to popular belief) I’m a human being and treating me as though I work street corners simply because I do not comply is not and will never be okay.
You may be asking why I dress the way I do. Simply, it’s because I do. I like the way a certain shirt caresses my shoulder or a skirt flows when I twirl. I can guarantee that all of my pieces are covered all of the time; I’m conservative enough to constantly fear a wardrobe malfunction. There is no intense meaning behind my clothing choices; truth be told, most clothes on the market are inappropriate. For the last time, I’m not trying to attract anyone, as is so often implied. If any male believes the length of my shorts directly correlates with my interest in him, I can assure them they simply suffer from an inflated ego. I’ve got more important things to do than to devote time in the morning thinking of the best way to attract my classmates.
My intelligence is not related to the length of my shorts or the width of the straps on my tank top; nor my self respect. I respect myself well enough, and I do not consider showing my shoulder blades as a cry for attention. If I dressed based on my intelligence and personality I would be in a long black cloak for the rest of my life. Unfortunately that outfit is so15th century Salem Witch Trials.
I am in no way against a dress code. I’m not a fan of having health class parts revealed to me, either. I am, however, not offended by a few bare shoulders. If my clothing is offensive, it is no more so than the sagging pants I am subjected to each day (a dress code violation so frequently ignored and rarely punished). For some reason, my male counterparts are allowed to wear tank tops, but I am not. I don’t particularly enjoy seeing a classmate’s newest pair of boxers, but I tolerate it, and it is by no means diminishing my level of concentration.
Though I will not be here next year, I sincerely hope the above writing is considered when the dress code announcements are being made. Until then, please alert me when colonial fashion is back in style.