The quasi-debut of this blog shall be dedicated to a clique very prevalent at my high school: the dancers.These "dancers" are professional ballerinas from all over Canada who dance at the Quinte Ballet School (lovingly nicknamed QBS) and come to Centennial (my high school) for their academic schooling. The dancers are known for many things and dancing is not one of them: looks, eating disorders and sexual promiscuity are the biggies. Basically, they're all pretty and skanky. Pretty skanky. But what I have noticed is that they all wear an unspoken dancer uniform. It consists of a preppy cable-knit or argyle sweater on top, perfectly dishevelled hair with a few cute barettes thrown in at random, a short denim skirt and those terrible fashion menaces, Uggs.
Occasionally, the uniform varies a little with an American Eagle t-shirt replacing the sweater and tastefully loose jeans worn without a belt to reveal heavy ass cleavage - but one thing never changes. Their pants will still be mercilessly stuffed into a pair of goddamned Uggs, preferrably in a garish shade of pink. Alright, thses dancers are gorgeous, they know it and flaunt it to the fullest extent. It was -20 degrees celcius and snowing the other day and on particular mop-topped dancer waltzed through the halls in a distressed denim miniskirt and sparkly flats. Gee, she sure came prepared for the weather. Anyhow, they all seem to have a collective spirit of individuality. What an oxymoron. Caanada may be "Hollywood North" but it is nowhere near as warm as L.A. and we shouldn't try to dress like it is. I'll save my denim miniskirts for more appropriate weather. Even then I'll probably wear them with combat boots.
On a related note, I'm frightened that I might actually be beginning to dress like a dancer, sans Uggs. I like to wear cute barettes in my hair, plus I own a cable knit and an argyle patterned sweater. They're vintage (my mom's from the '80's) which justifies it. Sort of. I also bought some dancer-like clothes at the mall the other day. Please don't burn me at the stake, I'm not a heretic - I swear!