"I remember him, of course. In second grade. I always liked how he had an I don't care what you think attitude about his style of clothing. One day, he came to school wearing a long-sleeved light-pink shirt with a black and gray striped tie. Just an ordinary day. Nothing special happening. Thing is, none of the other kids said a word. No one teased him," his previous teacher reflected.
His mom remembered those days. Days where he picked his outfits based on style rather than on what the fashion-of-the-moment was. What everyone was wearing.
His mom remembered those days. Days where he picked his outfits based on style rather than on what the fashion-of-the-moment was. What everyone was wearing.
Older now.
More conscientious of peer pressure.
What the kids were saying.
What was considered cool.
What was not.
More conscientious of peer pressure.
What the kids were saying.
What was considered cool.
What was not.
If the words were anywhere near negative, there was no way he'd wear a shirt other than what everyone else was wearing. Let alone a tie.
"I wonder why I am not like that anymore. Like in second grade. I thought it was cool when I wore that pink shirt. And that tie. No one else was wearing those things, and I didn't care." He looked down at his skinny extremely low on the hips jeans and his must have a cool saying on the front t-shirt.
The look.
Everyone's style.
The next day, he wore a light-blue and white short-sleeved button-down. To school. Middle school. Where who you are is determined by what everyone else thinks of you.
Everything else he wore was the same. Same fashion as all the hip-to-what's-fashionable kids. Same jeans. Same shoes. Same hair.
The button-down wasn't a pink shirt.
Didn't include a tie.
But it was a step.
To an individual style.
Rediscovered.
"I wonder why I am not like that anymore. Like in second grade. I thought it was cool when I wore that pink shirt. And that tie. No one else was wearing those things, and I didn't care." He looked down at his skinny extremely low on the hips jeans and his must have a cool saying on the front t-shirt.
The look.
Everyone's style.
The next day, he wore a light-blue and white short-sleeved button-down. To school. Middle school. Where who you are is determined by what everyone else thinks of you.
Everything else he wore was the same. Same fashion as all the hip-to-what's-fashionable kids. Same jeans. Same shoes. Same hair.
The button-down wasn't a pink shirt.
Didn't include a tie.
But it was a step.
To an individual style.
Rediscovered.
All five of my kids went to Catholic school and had to wear a uniform all 12 years. When my eldest went off to college she looked into her closet and said in dismay, "What will I wear if I don't have my uniform? I hate this, why do they have to make it so hard?" Then there is my youngest who hates every thing about wearing a uniform and contorts into all kinds of positions within her seat belt while she changes in the car on the way home from school. Yikes, I suppose it takes all kinds, right? Personally, I loved the uniform because I didn't ever have to be the one to say, "That skirt is too short, or, tuck in your shirt." The school did all that for me so it took a lot of pressure off. From what I see out there, individual style is usually wearing what ever the kids around them are wearing and calling it "my style". I guess it all comes together sooner or later. As for me, I'll just be wearing my jeans and my flip flops. How about you?
ReplyDeleteAh, really nice. Gotta love a kid who cares more about what he thinks than whatever everyone else might think.
ReplyDelete