I am sorry, but for me, wearing items of clothing which proclaim your allegiance to particular institution are the height of lameness. Whether it is an Old Etonian tie, or baggy grey sweatpants with DAL printed across the bum, it is indicative of a herd mentality and the desperate need to announce publicly that you belong somewhere.
Yet I admit that I seem to be in the minority here. A couple of years ago, my children’s elementary school started advertising clothing with the name of the school printed brashly and in playful fonts across the front and back, up and down. Fuschia hoodies, bright blue sweatpants, blush pink t-shirts, all emblazoned with the name of the school, big and black.
And the Princess wanted some.
The difference between my two children, offspring of my loins and with my features stamped unmistakably across their faces will never cease to amaze me. While The Golden Boy thinks of his school as an ugly old building where he is forced to sit still for the most part of most days, learning boring and random things, the Princess worships the school as the gateway to the good life, the institution which provides stability, order, friendship and education. So I suppose it was not entirely shocking that she would want to purchase a t-shirt with the name of her school, as evidence of her love for it.
-“No” I said. “It’s lame”
-“Are you the God of Lame?” she shrieked. “Everybody’s getting them.”
I understand, Gentle Reader, but I do not sympathise. While I would not go as far as to say that I would rather wear sackcloth than clothes with the insignia of my school, I simply lack institutional veneration. I believe The Princess has inherited hers from her grandfather, for whom his university was also a life-altering experience which provided the means for him to jump class, and who simply fucking loves those old buildings in downtown Tehran.
But meanwhile, the Princess continues to wear pretty flowered and pink and frilly cheap clothes, free from schools and buildings.