A Formal Complaint Against White Robes.

We have white robes for graduation and I really don't like them.

Part One:

 

White robes?

On high school kids?
Do you realize the potential catastrophes of white robes?

They're just begging to get stained or covered in cat hair.

Anything,

any little flaw shows up, like a criminal in the headlights.

People sneeze-

nerves get the best of the best of us;

sweating and throwing up.

The makeup every girl is guaranteed to be wearing is a red flag;

the black tears and red lipstick and hugging and crying?

Backstage cokes and lint-covered floors?!

 

Part Two:

 

Though my friends in concert choir may be used to the situation,

I am not.

We are not a gospel choir and I don't want to look like one.

Like those singing asparagus in that Veggietales movie about Jonah.

We're not bringing tidings of joy which shall be unto all people.

Or hospital patients

[though hopefully they will provide more coverage]

Or cheap ghosts who forgot to cut out the eye-holes.

There will most certainly be a Marilyn Monroe gutter-moment

and s****y girls who won't wear Sunday best underneath. 

 

Part Three:

If I am to wear one of the atrocities

with the little stupid hat,

at least let me leak out my personality through it.

You've pulled a Pink Floyd and sent us uniformed students into the sausage machine.

Why can't I wear fishnets or striped stockings-

big boots and black trinkets-

in my last moment in the sun?

Tasteful goth clothing in clean-cut condition?

Add my own little memorable touch?

 

Haven't I been formal enough?!