There is something about a uniform. Is it the freshly starched collar the shiny gold epaulettes or smartly pressed trousers? Or is it simply the relief that the person does not to have to think about what she has to wear to work.
Didn't we all hate our school uniform rolling the waistband of our school skirts — the girls among us anyway — to make them shorter to the point of indecency? What joy when the boring navy pullover could be consigned to the bin and 'own clothes' could be worn in the sixth form.
Some dress code applied there: smart trousers (no jeans) no strappy sundresses decent length skirts etc 'this is a school not a fashion parade' — do bear in mind that this was a girls' school but essentially it was a time for experimenting stretching...
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