10 April 2008

they want us naked and possibly as transvestites.

Dear dress code,

You and I have a love hate relationship. Good times were had, experimentation came from you and of course, those lovely weeks of detention I received for trying to thwart your claws. Remember how in freshman year I used to wear band t-shirts, jeans, and sneakers every day and never got caught unless I was on the second floor? Good times, eh?

No longer. You have gone one step too far, my friend. I understand that you want my amazingly awesome body (ha, ha) but all these restrictions are, quite frankly, ridiculous. It's understandable about colored jeans. We aren't supposed to have jeans on in the first place. I get that. But...no tailored pants? What? I'm sorry, I don't like walking around in yoga pants / fat pants. Work pants? I think people who have jobs like to have their pants tailored. Straight legged? Give me a break. I wear straight legged pants and you say they're skinny. Sorry my calves are fat...? This pains me. Pains me so hard. I have one pair of non skinny pants. And they're a piece of crap. I REFUSE TO WEAR FAT PANTS. You saw me in last period when I heard her smug mouth note tailored pants were unprofessional. I was foaming at the mouth. I wish I was lying.

No studs. I get that. I can get around that, I suppose. Buttons are ok right? Oh, wait, cords aren't allowed either. Pockets? What? I can't expose them? Eh? What did my pockets ever do to you? Are they streakers now? Does looking at them make you ill? Pockets aren't some obscure reference to gangs. The school is like the anti-gang gang of Jersey. What the hell.

It's obvious you don't realize my monetary situation. Actually, the lack of the money. I am not going to buy a whole new wardrobe of fat pants, long sleeved shirts, more fat pants, and generally failure-made-in-pants pants. You're too cruel.

You leave me no choice. I shall just have to order this--or the transgender (anatomically correct with holes included!) bodysuit before school ends so I am prepared for the next school year.

Hey, if I can't wear any of my pants, skirts, or leggings, I guess I'll just have to go naked or the next best thing.

I want a divorce. No, I don't--I want you gone. I'm hiring a hitman on your punk ass, dress code policy. A HIT MAN OF SPANDEX, JEANS, SKANK SHIRTS AND TAILORED PANTS.



Many middle fingers and rude gestures,

An extremely stubborn and pantswearing Fashion Pirate.