This Is Going To Be A Uniform Response, It Seems

I attended a private Catholic high school many years ago. Most in my area required a specific, monogrammed uniform that was sold at a specific store. You could not buy them elsewhere, and the administration loved giving you detention if you wore khakis that did not have their acronym on them. Their sizing was horrible, so this happened very often. The pants had to fit a specific way as well: both baggy and skin-tight ones were not allowed.

I ended up working at this store one summer a year after graduation, and since I had personal experience with how awful those uniforms were, it was my designated area every shift. One interaction has stayed a fresh memory for ten years.

This student is an incoming freshman. Her mother is with her in crisp business attire with a Bluetooth piece in her ear and not much patience for her teenager’s attitude. She is not talkative but does pay attention when I show them the uniform options and the school’s policy.

I help the girl find three sizes likely to fit and explain that the size on the label might say five, but it really is a size two. She takes them in to try them on, and I tidy up the area while I wait for her to decide so I can pull more of the size she needs, all while she is complaining about how awful they fit her and how they don’t show off her legs at all. I check the fit with her mother, and off I go to pull the correct pairs when I hear this gem.

Mom: “You’re going there to learn, not to get a dollar in your underwear. Enough.”

I did not hear another word from her outside of yes or no until they left. She was pretty embarrassed by her mom’s admonition, but knowing how that school was, the admin’s dressing down would have been worse. I don’t miss that store and I especially don’t miss how many kids would leave in tears for how poorly those pants fit, especially on anyone not under a size seven or anyone tall.