I want a uniform. I have wanted one since ever I can remember. What’s stopping me?
I have had some uniforms. When I worked at a cafe in high school, we had a t-shirt we had to wear. There was a rumor that we might need to wear a hat too. I said if that became the case I would quit. I’m very particular about hats and almost never want one.
I also had a uniform when I was on a sports team. It was cheerleading. (We’ll get into that some other time.) On game days, we wore our uniforms to school (which thankfully included leggings and sweatshirts in addition to the tiny skirt). Two days out of the week for half the school year I didn’t have to think about what to wear. Bliss.
In college, I had a defacto uniform of paint-encrusted overalls. I was studying scenic design and painting. I had some other clothes too. But the overalls were my most beloved, most worn, and felt most like me.
Later, after I became an occupational therapist, I got to wear another uniform - scrubs. Scrubs are wonderful. They are comfortable and they clearly state that you are here to work (and get dirty if necessary, much like the overalls).
But it’s been several years since I worked in environment that required a uniform. So it’s up to me to create it. Sometimes when I read about uniforms, I end up reading about “capsule wardrobes,” but this is much fussier than what I’m after. I want less clothing in my closet and less decisions to make but it doesn’t need to be “timeless” or cost thousands of dollars.
I do actually wear the same few items weekly. But I fantasize about how a true uniform would feel different. It wouldn’t be like wearing the same pair of jeans again because they are the only ones that are clean or the only ones that fit. Instead, it would be intentional. It would be calculated, ritualized.
In this W Magazine article, several creative types explain the how and why of their invented uniforms. What strikes me is how self-assured they are about it. They know they are wearing the right thing — the right thing for them, not for the current trend or even the social situation.
Have you ever bought a pair of shoes or a dress that felt so right that you thought it was the only thing you would wear from now on? I have. And then I got tired of whatever that thing was. Of course, nobody says you have to wear the uniform for 20 years. Another question is, what made you get tired of it? And is there something else you could be thinking about rather than your damn pants? Maybe getting bored of clothes is just too much thinking about them.
I’m going to play with the uniform concept this year. I’m not going to name a single article of clothing I’ll wear for 12 months. I’m going to start small. Week by week. Maybe it will become monthly, but we’ll see. I also think there might be a “work week uniform” and a “weekend uniform.” Let’s be honest- I already have a weekend uniform and it’s sweatpants and I love them. Except I won’t wear them out of the house with the exception of dog walks around the neighborhood or to the gym because I feel like sweatpants are a slippery slope to really not giving a shit. About anything. Ever.
I have a hunch that my inaction on the uniform front has to do with my sense of a split identity. What role am I dressing for? OT? Mother? Domestic chore-doer? Remote corporate worker? Artist? Teacher? Suburban 40-something lady? Do I want to be identified as any of these things by my clothing anyway? Not really. I just want to feel like myself. - J.
