By Sarah Truckey
Up until a few years ago, my only daily struggle was deciding whether to wear a white polo or navy polo with khaki pants or navy pants. At my Catholic high school, we all looked pretty much the same, but we took it as a challenge to be creative, mixing and matching shoes and socks and sweater vests that complemented our tans, blues and creams. Some wore name brands or tried to get away with rolling their skorts high enough to show off their legs or unbuttoning their collared shirts low enough to bare a bit of cleavage, but for the most part, we all looked sensible and somewhat intelligent. And thanks to that dress code, I could wake up at 7:45 a.m. for my 8:18 a.m. class, throw on an outfit from my limited selection, walk the 15 minutes to school and still arrive early. Now, as I spend 20 minutes staring at my full closet of clothes, screaming, “I have nothing to wear!” I long for the old days when my choices were slim.
