Be Afraid. Be Very Afraid. April 8, 2006

But why, Viki? Why must we be afraid? Whatever could be wrong? Whatever could be upsetting you so?

Well, I’ll tell you. I was sitting at Starbuck’s up until just a few minutes ago. When I walked in, I had expected to find the store mostly empty, as there was only one other car in the parking lot, and its owner was sitting in it, smoking and talking on the phone. But no, the store was not empty. It was packed from wall to wall with giggling, squealing, middle school girls.

Now, normally that wouldn’t be so frightening, would it? I’m a grown woman. I can hold my own in a crowd of young people, no problem. I just push them aside and give them a look that says, “Don’t fuck with me, you little twit. Now stand aside so I can get my latte.” And they wither under my gaze. What frightened me was not that there was so many of them. It was that nearly every one of them was wearing the SAME GODDAMN JACKET.

You may think that I am exaggerating, but I’m not. I’m dead serious. Out of the fifteen, perhaps seventeen young girls milling around in Starbuck’s sipping their Frappacino’s, 98% of them was wearing THIS JACKET:

What’s wrong with that jacket? you might be asking yourself. What the hell kind of crazy, wingnut crap is going through Viki’s mind that she has to get so upset about a silly jacket?

It’s that they were ALL wearing one. Except for two or three who probably just left theirs at home. Most were wearing the pink version, or the “sweet berry” version shown in the photo above. A couple wore black, and only two or three had branched out into colors like red or grey, or even a khaki green version I had never seen. (I guess she must be the innovator). My daughter has been asking for this jacket, not seriously, bur frequently, for months, but I’ve refused because who the hell needs to spend $80 on a kids jacket when there’s a perfectly good one on the hook from last year (yes, I’m cheap that way sometimes). Plus, I do not want her to look like every girl in town.

So while I’m sitting there, in Starbuck’s, thinking about how sad it is that every one of these girls is wearing the same jacket, they begin to file out, and peace is restored to my Starbuck’s. I drink my latte and do some homework, and I’m sitting near the window, see? And what happens, do you think? It’s a nice, pleasant day, about 50 degrees (the sort of temperature perfect for a North Face fleece jacket), so the middle school girls are out in full force. And what walks by? Another group of girls, four or five of them, all wearing that jacket. They enter the store and go up to order drinks. As they’re ordering, another group comes in, three girls, yes, wearing the jacket. They all mill around for a bit, waiting for their drinks, then they leave, and as they exit, I shit you not, people, four more kids come in, WEARING THE SAME COAT. This group is clearly identifying themselves as the outcasts, because their jackets are the dark heather grey and black. But they are STILL wearing the same coat. Then in through the back door comes four more girls, these one’s are clearly high-school age, and yes, all four of them are wearing the jacket. Three in the pink, one in the above sweet berry. As they leave, a family comes in. The daughter AND the son are wearing the jacket.

So I sit there, in shock, realizing that every goddamn child in the entire town except for mine owns the SAME GODDAMN COAT. And I begin to think, hmm. Did I miss that memo? Was there a discount offered through the school? Was there some kind of mandate put out by the village that requires all of the children to wear the same coat?

What the hell is going on here? I’m thinking that the fact that the jacket is probably a relatively good value (at $79 dollars, keep in mind), being warm and all, and lightweight, and a jacket that the kid wants, so you’re willing to buy it because you know they’ll wear it, combined with the fact that probably some cool kids decided that was the jacket to have and then the rest of them followed suit, demanding their parents buy it for them. I don’t think that sentence made sense, but I’m too rattled to try to fix it. Proper grammar doesn’t mean anything right now, in a moment of crisis.

Do these children have separate identities at all? Most of the girls were wearing either jeans or those gaucho pants. Most were wearing Birkenstock clogs. Granted, these are the things their mothers are buying for them, but they’re all the same! They might as well be wearing uniforms. And what does that mean, really, in the larger scope of things? Are these children afraid to stand out? Afraid to be different than every other child in their school? Is this just something that happens with that age (although, keep in mind I witnessed high school girls wearing the same jacket as well)? I seem to remember, when I was in junior high, which, you know, was just last year;), that everyone wore jeans and Izods or Polo shirts. I owned a Preppy Handbook, I’m not ashamed to admit, and I did indeed own several turtlenecks printed with little ducks or turtles or whatnot, with coordinating Polo crewneck sweaters, in wool during the winter and cotton in the fall and spring. Looking back, we did indeed dress all alike. It was easier, I guess, than dealing with the shit-storm that descended on you when you didn’t.

Middle school is a perilous place. Kids are just beginning to form their identities, and they’re afraid to be too different lest they be noticed and made fun of. Middle school kids can be mean, because they’re just figuring out how to do that, how to ruin each other and bring each other down.

Why, oh why does it have to be that way?

My reasons why it shouldn’t, at this point, are completely selfish. For one thing, my own daughter will be starting middle school next fall. She will not have a North Face fleece. Unless I have some kind of mental breakdown or something. She will have a warm and cozy jacket, of course. But not a North Face fleece. Other than that, I’m simply terrified. I ran from Starbuck’s, barely taking the time to zip shut my laptop bag, dodging North Face fleece jackets and ponytails left and right, shoving a few out of my way to get to the door. I nearly ran a couple over when trying to exit the parking lot, and as I drove though town (not a lengthy task-town is two blocks long), they were everywhere. Coming in and out of stores. Milling around the train station. I nearly headed for home, thinking I should batten the hatches and stock up on ammo and bottled water! But I steeled my resolve and came here, to the library, where there are not only no middle schoolers, but no one wearing North Face fleece jackets.

This was an awfully long post, and I may have to come back and edit it a bit.