University life is a roller-coaster, it is a journey of self-discovery, experiments, explorations but most importantly a journey to getting an academic qualification.
The journey starts with applications, wait, no, it starts with getting good marks to qualify for what you want to study, or maybe it starts with just the desire to wear whatever you want on a daily basis, not being stuck in an attire chosen by who knows who, that does not reflect your fashion sense at all, attempting to make every student look the same but failing dismally. You still get the girl with the short skirt that ends where it starts, either by choice or because she has outgrown it and cannot afford another one. The boy with the three-quarter pants, who walks with a bounce trying to make poverty look fashionable. The girl whose uniform is always well ironed and looks like its brand new, like every day – gets dropped off by a BMW 1 series coupe by a youngish looking guy, might be her dad (if she was born when he was maybe 15), her driver, her brother, uncle or anyone else really, but everyone is convinced, actually ‘knows’ it’s her sugar daddy; a recently married guy who still fancies high school girls, not that she has ever confirmed these accusations but hey, we all know that’s her life. The boy who is always wearing a blazer regardless of the weather, the head boy with the golden stripes around his, the girls with the floppy veranda hats and the ones with the sugar solution hardened ones, some new some old but hardened either way. Bottom line is uniform has never made students uniform, liberation from this falsehood was much needed by many, that liberation was university, so we thought. #TBC