Uniform Rules.

One of my dad’s favourite photographs of me as a child is me standing on the front door step on my first day of school. With a rucksack double my size, blazer sleeves trailing along the ground and soon-to-be scuffed shiny new shoes on my little feet, I was ready for anything.

When I stood in the playground lost and bewildered amid a screeching mass of havoc-wreaking school kids, I remember being approached by a terrifying-looking ten year old. In the blink of a teary eye, she brutally and brashly “christened” my brand new beret by twisting and yanking off the little bobble on the top. I cried. My mother sighed. And then last week, the nation was confronted with images of little Welsh school-goers burning their blazers in defiance against stricter uniform regulations, as reported by The Daily Mail. My, these schooling rituals are getting out of hand, I tut.

Despite a nation-wide move to smarten up our school kids, the Government has now decided to set a cap on the price of their uniforms. This is in order to enable families. What ever their financial status to be able to send their kids to their chosen establishment. It should prevent discrimination and exclusion. Great. But, as our continental cohorts curiously ask, what actually is the point of a school uniform?

Strolling around Eton College this summer I was totally taken aback and then tickled pink at the sight of what can only be described as hundreds of “mini men” running to morning prayer, their tail coats billowing out behind them. “They just need a miniature top hat!” I squeaked in delight. I was promptly told that these were only abolished during the Second World War when the youngsters had to carry their gas masks. The full school uniform at Eton costs around £1000. This may be a little on the steep side for a garb which will inevitably have holes torn in the knee by break-time and be far too small by Christmas. Nevertheless, the principle remains the same.

Despite many pupils’ misgivings and teenagers criticizing the creativity-stifling attire, a school uniform is there ultimately to promote a sense of unity, identity and cohesion. David Cameron has pledged that bringing the blazer back will improve classroom discipline and behaviour. The school uniform aims to inspire a sense of belonging, of community and of collective spirit and foster a school image. Without getting too poet, the kids simply look smart.

As a Sixth Former suddenly given free reign over my wardrobe, I used to wake up each morning in a cold sweat, panicking about wearing the same outfit twice. I would run down stairs to find that my top didn’t go with my bag, or that my trousers were too short for my shoes, or that my jacket just looked all wrong. Total nightmare. I tried and tried to get a uniform introduced. Not only for the hassle-free knowledge of knowing exactly what to wear each day. Not only because it would work out far cheaper in the long run. But also more importantly to stop girls turning up in their bikinis and Ugg boots.

But what has to be the most hailed and perhaps least praised advantage of the school uniform is that is wipes out any sort of economic divide between one pupil and the next. When everyone is dressed the same there is no knowing if it is Jacob or Jamelia’s mother who is a botox-injected, silicone-implanted, diamond-encrusted yummy-mummy in a 4x4. There is no way of knowing if it is Raj or Rebecca’s father who works solid twelve hour days to feed his family of 5.

Every child is immediately reduced to the same level, regardless of their background. Kids cannot tease another about their trainers which are, like, sooooooooo uncool. Teenagers cannot thoughtlessly destroy another’s confidence by slagging off their last-season’s strip if they are all in a school uniform which blithely ignores London Fashion Week.

School is for learning. Not for parading Prada’s latest Autumn/Winter Collection. Stripped of their individual outer shell when within the school gates, perhaps our mini-me’s would grow up unscarred by the utterly image-conscious outlook obsessing the rest of society. Instead, the nation’s youngsters would be forced to focus on their textiles, trigonometry and T.S Elliot and save their trackie bums, taunting and trend-setting for home-time.