"The first time you put your kid in school uniform, there's an intoxicating charm to the moment. There he is, your precious firstborn, and you've dressed him up like a grown-assed man who's managing the fanciest restaurant on a very large ferry. Slacks and a well-pressed shirt are just the baseline; there's also insignia on everything jumpers, shorts, bags, pencil cases and water bottles and the crest is something egalitarian, such as a tree or a leaf, but whatever it is, only that will do."
"After a full and overall pretty happy life of not sweating the small stuff, suddenly there's a person in your house whose every clothing item is absolutely irreplaceable, and that person is four, and has squashed a beetle into it. On that first day, though, all you're thinking is, How adorable, this is like his first Christmas, when we dressed him up as a pudding."
A parent experiences delight when a child first wears school uniform, admiring neat slacks, a crisp shirt, and ubiquitous insignia on jumpers, bags, and water bottles. Uniform items quickly become treated as irreplaceable despite small children causing stains and damage. Successive years involve laundering, searching for insignia, and buying multiple duplicates to cope with loss and wear. Attempts to remove uniform via PTA collapse due to interpersonal dynamics, which then flip into fervent advocacy for uniform despite recognizing its expense, poor quality, and the mounting volume of branded items. Promotional sales provoke both temptation and anger.
Read at www.theguardian.com
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