The Deerfield Girl Individuality Crisis Explained

HEIDI LIANG/DEERFIELD SCROLL

It’s no secret that Deerfield is a place built on tradition; whether it's slapping the tiled green “D” on the way to practice or attending sit-down meals seven times a week. Another one of Deerfield’s traditions includes its dress code, which is described on the Deerfield website as a “shared experience and an everyday practice that signals seriousness of purpose and mutual respect within our community.” The Deerfield dress code plays an integral role in shaping our identity as a student body, to the extent that it encourages students to conform to it in order to achieve a sense of belonging. There exists as well a basic level of inequality when it comes to following the dress code, which could result in exclusivity.

It's no secret that my and perhaps many other freshman girls’ wardrobes changed drastically from the beginning of the year, simply through experience and exposure.  My closet in particular came from very humble beginnings; it went from a few shirts and tops to a plethora of skirts and blouses, with some pieces of clothing finding a place under my bed due to limited capacity. During the Disco Dance last year, every freshman was scrambling to get the same exact sparkly sequin skirt. It's almost instinctive to see another girl with a pretty dress and to ask, “Where is that from?” which only accentuates the “copy and paste” culture we’re experiencing at Deerfield. It makes me stop and wonder, where does this phenomenon come from? 

Deerfield girls, in particular, have made this intangible but real dress code I like to call  “The Imagined Deerfield Girl Dress Code.” Right now, the Deerfield Dress Code website is quite cryptic regarding what girls are allowed to wear, stating that all students should wear, "a blazer or sportcoat (with lapel), an appropriate top like collared shirts, blouses, dresses, and an appropriate bottom layer like pants, shorts, skirts, and dresses.” 

The “imagined” part kicks in when you walk down the brick paths every morning and see girls rocking blazer-less sundresses, cardigans of all sorts of colors, and most frighteningly, the occasional pair of blue jeans when nobody seems to be looking. Even though this dress code is not too far off from the original, there’s clearly an implied way that Deerfield girls should dress that’s not stated on paper. What makes the phenomenon peculiar is how it’s internalized by students who start to enforce the dress code themselves, rather than a single person or institution. 

To further understand where this dress code comes from, it’s helpful to catch a glimpse at what an imagined order truly is. Coined by Sapiens author Yuval Harari, an imagined order is an intersubjective belief that has historically increased mass-collaboration amongst societies, and can also shift into becoming an “imagined reality.” Some of the most famous examples include everyday things like the value of the dollar bill, laws, or, for a more niche example, our dress code. What makes these imagined orders so attractive is that they create cohesion, which provides security. I can’t lie, wearing those billowy sundresses and comfortable cardigans makes me feel a part of something. That desire to belong is precisely what gives imagined orders their power. I could have just failed my math test or suffered an embarrassing slip and fall, but it would feel like an undeniable fact that I belong to the Deerfield community. Although nearly everyone experiences psychological pressures to conform, not everyone has the ability to participate in the trends that define our belonging. When appearance starts tying to social acceptance, fashion stops being a simple form of self-expression.  

Hence, the social unity and community bond created by consumer culture reveals its inequalities. Highly regarded sociologist Zygmunt Bauman described two main consumer groups that he referred to as the “seduced,” the ones with the resources to follow trends,  and the “repressers,” the ones unable to buy in due to financial restrictions. These designations sought to highlight the basic level of inequality that consumerism poses. Most importantly, this directly represents how “consumer choice” is only truly available to those who have the necessary financial resources to afford the latest trends. Especially because how we look dictates our belonging, “consumer choice” can turn into a “consumer necessity” for fitting in, and the “repressers” become outliers. The “Imagined Deerfield Girl Dress Code” is a tough code to follow for students with less financial resources, which leads to a greater sense of alienation.

To end off this Op-Ed, I challenge you, the reader, to do two things: one, look at the contents of your closet, and two, ask yourself, why? Gauge how your closet has changed over time, and most importantly, why you made the fashion choices you did. Then ask yourself, were those choices really yours, or the result of the influences from the people around you? In a consumerist society, do we really have consumer choice? Or rather, have we been getting complacent with the illusion of a choice, dictated by the ones around us?