Brave New World Meets 1984

Today was school photo day. I love school photos because they track growth and development against an identical back ground in identical light. All change is beautifully described with none of the additional distraction of scenery, pets or family.

On second thoughts, I hate school photos.

Despite my reluctance to watch my visage wither before the camera, we get our photos free as teachers and it is always nice to have the whole staff photo with pics and names laid before you which, in the future, will help you answer the endless questions posed at dinner parties: "who was that skinny neurotic year 6 teacher who thought differentiation meant giving them 3 questions instead of 10? You know, the one who got pissed at the staff dinner and got off with the Reception teacher in the toilet at the restaurant." Of such things are memories made. Or not. Depending upon your own levels of inebriation.

So it was, with vanity aforethought, that I recently booked my cut and colour in time for the annual school photo fest. After all, much planning is required: up early enough to do ones make up without glasses; blowdry and apply product; find appropriate clothing. I felt, after all these years, that I had the whole thing under control so it was with surprise that I opened an email,  mere days before this standout event, which stated that we were required to wear blue....and nothing too bright mind you! And if we didn't do blue we had to come up with something neutral and, for God's sake, hold the pattern!!!

Now, my first response on reading this, was to glance over my shoulder to see if any security cameras were watching the way I chewed my nails when no one was around. I mean! Dictating the way we dressed for photos? Outrageous!! Big Brother is watching!!

So, what did I do this morning as I dressed for the all important annual photo shoot? Did I haul out the fuschia as suggested by an old school chum? Did I lift my metaphorical middle finger and stride proudly in wearing a pair of scarlet jodhpurs and hippy patterned cheesecloth shirt?

No.

I am so pathetic nowadays. Twenty years ago I would have challenged the edict. In fact 25 years ago I did! Given the direction to wear a white or cream dress under my graduation robe, this is what I chose.
It is a measure of how far I have come in my journey that I chose a navy shirt and a neutral, calico skirt this morning. I meant to wear a rust coloured skirt with the navy shirt but,* gasp*, that would have contravened dress regulations! So, with very little left to prove, I toed the line. *sigh*

On arriving at the hall this morning however, I wished I had gone with my gut. Everyone was whinging! Most of us felt it was a huge imposition on personal liberties to insist that everyone dressed in a similar fashion/colour. There were oohs and aahs as people who danced close to the edge arrived. "Hey! That COULD be construed as green you know!!"

Of course everyone knew who to look for when it came to bucking the system. One was away. The other sported an attractive watermelon coloured T shirt. One of the fellows argued that he had bucked the system,  but we were not 'paying' a pink tie when the rest of his ensemble included a blue shirt and trousers underneath!!!

Then there was the fellow who turned up in a wild orange shirt. "Hello," noted Office Lady,"someone missed the email!!" Interesting that she didn't believe he was deliberately flaunting the dress code. I guess he just isn't that kind of guy.

As for me, I guess I have to admit my rebellious spirit lies quiet now. Except that it doesn't really. When that one wild, crazy lady waltzed in wearing tangerine I wished it had been me.

After all, what were they going to do? Make us sit out of the photo?

It will be interesting to see how many fold before the corporate will next year!

 picture credit