May 23, 2014 by Sez
She was not uniform. The skirt and blazer slouched subversively on her body, looking like fancy dress no matter what she did. Her tie was insolently loosened, and she had gone to great lengths to get her regulation tights laddered sufficiently.
They might restrict what she could wear: the consultant who’d come to turn the school around claimed force that a strict uniform policy would foster a sense of belonging, reduce dissent.
In jeans and t-shirt her contempt for authority had been somewhat muted. These days her lolling tie and shortened skirt broadcast rebellion louder than blue jeans ever had.