Clothing forms a massive part of our identity. In the not-so-distant past, fashion served as a immediate visual shorthand for the type of people we are - the music we listen to, the politics we subscribe to: imagine mods and rockers, punks and goths or even the five characters from John Hughes’ angsty coming of age classic The Breakfast Club: the princess, the athlete, the criminal, the brain and the basketcase. These characters’ idiosyncratic fashion marked out them out as both distinct individuals and archetypes. Today, in our world of digital consumption, the boundaries between all these different subcultures have all but dissolved. Yet, from this, the student dress code has emerged, and it is a sartorial scrapbook, a deep dive through the decades: take 70s hippy, 80s flamboyance, 90s grunge and a large dose of Y2K pop princess. It is both nostalgic and of the here and now.
Image Credits: cybery2k_._ on instagram
Clothing forms a massive part of our identity
Indeed, the student look is highly distinctive and yet completely amorphous. But all you have to do is walk through Castle Leazes or Jesmond to spot it: it’s the charity shop chic, the baggy jeans and Fila jumper that could either be £5 from Oxfam or 100 quid from Urban Outfitters. It’s spending all of your overdraft (or daddy’s trust fund) on clothes that make you look kind of povo. It’s the mullet or the clip claw with the slut strands. It’s the rings and the chunky necklaces and the dainty chains. It is the shirt or skirt or shoes that toe the line: they might be genuinely heinous- something your weird art teacher would wear- or really cool. The student dress code is just making it up as you go, the delicate balancing act of carefully curated outfits that hopefully radiate the vibe that you just don’t give a fuck.
