I was having a discussion this morning with friends about wearing a suit to a job fair.
Which, yeah, you should.
I’m reminded of the several times as a recruiter when a young man or woman would decline the opportunity to serve because “I don’t want to have to wear a uniform.”
Usually said with the counter of a fast food establishment separating us.
But here’s the thing.
Everyone. Wears. A. Uniform.
Wall Street Tycoon? Bespoke suits during the week, and Brooks Brothers casual while out on Long Island for the weekend.
Tattoo artist? Please, I at least got to take off my uniform at the end of the work day.
Unix programmer? Hope you like Cheetos.
One thing outsiders rarely grasp is that, within the service, there’s actually a pretty fair amount of individuality just in the way the uniform is worn. The common patrol cap worn with the ACU uniform (or the BDU in my day) was crushed and shaped in a nearly infinite variety of ways, each of which was a reflection of the individual. A guy that really kinda regretted joining? Flat brim, just slapped on his head. Guy who wanted to be a Ranger, but not enough to, like, go to Ranger School? The brim was really rounded, and had a textbook Ranger Crush.
Another thing not instantly obvious to the outsider is that uniformity forces you to consider a person by truer signifiers. How one dressed told you little about them. Instead, you had to consider their deeds and words. By stripping away the most superficial signifiers, one was forced to actually get to know people.
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