Wearing the Purple and White

When I was a kid, back in the day, we didn’t have P.E. We had gym class.  And starting around the fifth grade, we had to change out of our regular clothes into our “gym clothes.” Which for most of us was a gym uniform, or what we called a “gym suit.” Mind you, we didn’t have school uniforms at all, or even a dress code. Nobody wore anything too outrageous back then. It was actually pretty boring, fashion wise.

Back to the gym suit… For the boys, it was a simple pair of shorts and a T shirt, in our school colors of purple and white, emblazoned with our eagle mascot’s profile. And if the guys didn’t have the school spirit inspiring purple and white, they could wear any combination of shorts and T shirt. Easy. No stress.

But for the girls, there was a little less freedom. By that I mean freedom of movement, freedom of choice, or freedom of expression. No options. You had to wear the gym suit. There was no alternative. And if you didn’t have your gym suit, you received an “absence” for that class, which you had to make up later. (So much for the excuse of, “I forgot my gym suit.”)

Fifth grade girls are beginning an unexpected and unsettling time in their lives. Hormones are starting to rear their heads. Girls become aware (and are baffled by) the changes they feel starting in their bodies.  Suddenly, self-consciousness is their go-to state of mind. The locker room became the stage for the most uncomfortable hour of the day, three days a week.

Enter the gym suit. A one-piece, polyester nightmare, with a zipper up the front. Expertly designed to unflatter every figure and give girls a choice between limiting motion or revealing more of their bodies than they were comfortable with. (Remember those climbing ropes? Forward rolls? Squat thrusts?) And who decided it made sense to attach the shorts to the top? The only thing harder than climbing into it was getting out of it. Even girls who loved gym class last year began to dread it.

By the time seventh grade rolled around, many were resigned to their uncomfortable, embarrassing, hopeless fate. But a few girls began to fight back, in their own ways. Some would get excused from class with a parent’s note, or go visit the school nurse with a gym suit induced malady. Others chose to pull a sweatshirt over the uni-garment, while a valiant few embraced the so called “track suit.” More polyester, but at least it was a jacket and pants. And the zipper ran the full length of the jacket. It was hard to find one without the annoying stripes, but it was way better than the alternative.

By ninth grade, the track suit rebels had moved on to various types of sweatpants, T shirts, and sweatshirts. Gym suits were pretty much dead. The school nurse breathed a sigh of relief, as the efforts of the older students trickled down to their younger counterparts. We made our way through gym, acne, and approached the end of puberty, if not in comfort, at least in something with way more cotton.

So why am I telling you this story of my middle and high school years?  Because it’s still happening today! Women of all ages are still being body shamed and manipulated by clothing “requirements.” Witness the recent the recent experience of the Norwegian women’s beach handball team at the European Championships. Forced to wear midriff baring sports bra-like tops, and high cut bikini bottoms to play a sport that involves jumping, diving, and landing in sand. The men’s team? They get to wear shorts that extend within 4 inches of the knee, and tank tops! When the women’s team rebelled by wearing shorts, they were FINED by their sports organization!

When we feel we have no power, we must remember there are rebels like these women to inspire us. Or women like the award winning singer P!nk who offered to pay their fine, and used her mega-platform to point out this discriminatory situation. But don’t think you have to be a world class athlete or superstar to make a difference – even the smallest of actions to address an inequality moves the scale of inequality towards balance. So take a deep breath, push down that voice in your head that doubts you, and speak, act, or do.

Sweatshirt, excuse, or track suit? Bikini or shorts?