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We had a dress code, not a uniform.
The code went thus: Black. White.
The severity of inforcement depended on who taught you, which teachers you bumped into in the corridor, and who you were. I got away, to the most extent, with nearly everything, other than jeans and wearing my hats indoors. Purple curtains, bright blue and white face-patterned trousers, rainbow coloured shoes, and pretty much everything else under the sun was fine for me, it seemed. Perhaps this was because Friday was casual-day, and on fridays, I seemed to get a little more ridiculous. Perhaps they thought it was the best they could do with me; to calm me down a bit. My friend Jane on the other hand, got told off for having a white polo short with a dark navy stripe on the collar.
One of my prouder moments, however, was when Casual-fridays were banned (due to lack of co-operation throughout the week). Which was also after leisure-time on fridays had ended. I wore dungarees, and was subsequently taken into the rectors office.
He asked why I was wearing it, and i said I heavily objected to school uniform. He told me I'd have my priveledges taken away. I asked him what priviledges I still had.
He told me I made his life hell. |
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