The year I started primary school, a uniform was introduced. Black tracksuit pants and a red tracksuit top was all I ever knew in my formative years, changing to a blue shirt and navy slacks as I moved into high school. This soon became a white shirt and navy skirt which as a rebellious 16 year old was quite brilliant because it was easy to wear a black bra underneath and fold the top of your skirt over to shorten the hem. Teaming this with knee high white socks for the trashy school girl look was always a winner. As I neared the end of high school I found myself in the standard school dress most days, then back into the black pants and red shirt for my after school job at the local cinema. My uniform story, and colours, had come full circle and I thought I was done.

Now, nearly 10 years after I finished high school (gosh, could I really be that old already?!), my creative freedom on dressing has had plenty of time to be unleashed. I dress for the job I want, not the job I have. I spend my weekends in heels and dresses while others enjoy the comfort of jeans and hoodies. Sometimes I change outfits three times a day, and I definitely change shoes more than that. Accessories, scarves, jewellery and hats adorn my boudoir while my closet is fit to bursting with clothes from the spectrum of cheap and cheerful to high end extravagance.

So what if, after 10 years of ‘expressing yourself’ through dress, you were forced back to the days of your schooling where the uniform was the outfit du jour? The reason for this sudden dilemma is that today, I am wearing a uniform. Black polo shirt with company logo. Black pants. Flat black shoes. Standard issue. Boring.

I’ve added a hair bow for flair and a trench to give it an edge, but underneath it all I am just another person on the street in a uniform. My outfit doesn’t express my personality, my ambition, my creativity or my ability to put together an outfit from scratch. It doesn’t say ‘hey, today I’m in yellow because I’m happy’, or ‘today I’m in red because I feel passionate’, or ‘blue today cause I feel sad’.

Uniforms suppress our feelings and don’t give us the chance to convey anything – be it favourite colours, favourite styles or favourite pieces. Uniforms create an aura of nothingness – and generally group a lot of people together that have nothing in common except what they are wearing. A uniform is constricting and for the most part, unflattering. The only thing (okay, 2 things) uniforms have going for them and that they can make you feel like you belong to something.

The second thing that is good about uniforms? Everyone loves a man in a uniform! Women are different – our shapes and sizes don’t fit the ‘one size fits all’ mould (with perhaps the exception of the French maid uniform but that is a blog post for another time) and most of the ‘sexy’ uniforms are male dominated professions. Bring on the firefighters and boys in their army greens any day!

Meanwhile, I’m grateful that my uniform experience is only a one day affair. Tomorrow I’ll be back in frocks and sky high heels, expressing myself and standing proud, showing the world what I am made of, perfectly accessorised all the way.