School Uniforms

In England, all school children wear uniforms. I have to admit that it dresses the place up a bit when at 3:30 the students pour out of school, all wearing nice pants or skirts in their school colors. In smarter parts of England, the children wear blazers, instead of the sweaters and sweatshirts we see around here. I've seen pictures of my husband as a young child, big eyed and knobbly kneed, in a puce jacket with sky blue piping and dress shorts. In Walthamstow, uniforms are often modified for religious reasons. When a group of older girls leaves school, most of them will be dressed in American Catholic girl uniform styles, a few will be wearing head scarves in school colors, and rarely one or two will even be wearing school-colored abayas.

Yesterday, as I was taking my son for an afternoon walk, we saw a young girl, maybe six or seven, hop out of her family's car and onto the sidewalk a few feet in front of us. Her mother was on the other side, lifting something, maybe a younger child or a bag of groceries, out of the backseat. The girl wore a school uniform, and the top was a green and white checkered Pakistani-style tunic. Her curly light brown hair was falling out of its braids, and I smiled at her because she looked happy, unkempt, and unconcerned with her appearance, and she made me feel nostalgic for that age. Instead of returning my smile, she furrowed her brow, took a white piece of cloth that I hadn't noticed she was holding, and quickly covered her hair in a veil. I've seen these white veils before, on young girls and on store window mannequin heads. The veil looks a lot like a nun's wimple, leaving only the facial features exposed and draping down to obscure the neckline of the shirt as well. Over the forehead is a little bit of trim, sometimes with lace, a kind of fabric bang. Until this performance, I hadn't realized that the style meant young girls could quickly veil and unveil themselves. When she was done, she looked up defiantly, as if she had gotten the better of me. And it is true, that when she put on the veil, I no longer saw her as a reminder of my younger self, but not because she was dressed differently. At six or seven, I would never have had the nerve to stand my ground and stare down an adult. I smiled again and walked on.