What I Wore When
The Uniform
by Alix Browne
When I think back to my teenage self, I am, more often than not, wearing a uniform. Gray polyester box pleat skirt, white button-down shirt that also contained an uncomfortably high level of manmade fibers (back then these no-iron styles were referred to as “permanent press”), an itchy navy blue sweater (probably mostly acrylic). At the all-girls school I attended we used to warn one another not to get too close to the radiators, lest your clothes start to melt. We were only half joking.
The uniform was the equalizer: it eliminated distractions and disguised some of the more obvious differences between us. The idea was that a neat and orderly appearance was the reflection of a neat and orderly mind. Or something to that effect.
Photo by Michal Chelbin
Alix Browne circa 1987
As teenagers we were in the throes of trying to figure out who we were, and this forced sartorial conformity did not help our cause. We did everything we could to break the dress code—at least without getting caught. One popular hack was to roll the waistband of your skirt to reveal the hem of men’s boxer shorts you were wearing underneath. That look you could somehow get away with. Sweat pants could land you in Work Detail cleaning chalkboards or picking up trash for two hours after school.
But even as I chafed against my highschool uniform (or rather in its pernicious cheapness, it chafed against me) the concept of a uniform — a suite of clothes one can step into every morning without so much as thinking -- has stuck. Although I have taken the liberty of some upgrades. There is nothing that says Fall like a pair of gray flannel trousers, a crisp cotton shirt, and a good cashmere sweater, worn with the loafers that were a sanctioned part of my highschool uniform, or the white Stan Smith tennis shoes that were most definitely not. I no longer think of a uniform as the absence of self-expression, but rather the purest form of it. What you wear when you recognize yourself.
Order Your Uniform
A work day staple in reclaimed denim. The jacket is hand-quilted by Alena Saunders using a twist on the Drunkard’s Path pattern.
Oversized, boxy fit.
This garment is handmade-upon-order. Please email concierge@oldstonetrade.com with any specific measurement requests.
Limited Edition
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