Danielle Amir-Lobel (17)
Coding Bodies and Hip Size
Honorable Mention in the Hips Contest
One hot California day, I was walking to my AP Spanish class, wearing shorts and a t-shirt. My midday class was on the upper level of the school. Little did I know that stairs would present an opportunity for male administrators to look at me from behind and below. Only after I was seated in my classroom did a male administrator call me out. Apparently, he had watched me ascend the entirety of the stairs, contemplated the “appropriateness” of my appearance—the tightness of my jeans over my hips and the way they shaped my body—and determined that he had the power to rule what is acceptable coverage for a freshman girl’s body. He pulled me out of class, disrupted my learning, and ruined my day. He succeeded in challenging my self-esteem, as I was suddenly self-conscious of my changing body—something I have no control over.
Dress coding girls does not make them more aware of the clothes they randomly select from their closets. Rather, it makes them ashamed of their bodies, self-conscious over the sway of their hips, and treated as a threat that must be thoroughly covered so that it does not distract boys from their learning. Subjugating girls to shame and interfering with our school day is acceptable. By creating these standards, schools reinforce the concept that “boys will be boys” and it is girls who must change to serve this notion of “boyhood.” I say no. Girls will be themselves, not disgraced into changing who they are to suit the views of boys or men. Boys must be held accountable for their actions with the expectation of dignity and respect. Teaching high schoolers otherwise reinforces rape culture and stereotypes of gender roles. Indeed, several studies have found that still today, people blame victims of sexual assault as responsible for their attack if they “dressed provocatively.”
Social scientist Shauna Pomerantz describes dress coding as a form of victim-blaming. Throughout history, feminists have been
fighting rules and actions that attempted to deprive us from autonomy over our bodies. It was not long ago that courts allowed defendants to interrogate rape victims about their sexual histories and their dress to suggest that “she was asking for her attack.” Some of the most unequal societies around the world are also those who “protect” the purity of women by covering them up, sometimes completely banning women from public life. Instead of focusing on girls’ dress, schools must educate boys that, no matter what a girl wears, she never invites an inappropriate stare or comment.
Dress code is not an objective matter. I saw girls wearing the same exact shorts on different days who were not shamed for their clothing. Often it is the fuller, more voluptuous girls with larger hips who are targeted while the slimmer, hourglass body types can get away with identical outfits. Studies show that men regularly, and often subconsciously, judge women on the size of their hips and that hips are the number one “problem area” that models need to tackle to get runway-ready. With dress codes that are open to subjective interpretation, school is no different. Selective enforcement allows teachers and administrators, frequently men, to pick and choose which girls they think do not look proper. The decisions they make may not even be consciously biased, but they are patterned with the pervasive, unrealistic body image norms that exist in our society. I cannot control my body type and should not be subject to unequal treatment at school—just because of the way I look.
In addition to being sexist, dress codes are also enforced based on racial stereotypes. A 2018 study by the National Women’s Law Center of schools in the D.C. area concluded that “dress codes promote race and sex discrimination and pull students out of the classroom for no good reason.” The study found that teachers enforce the rules more strictly with black girls and in ways that are humiliating, including sending them home. In 1986, the black poet Lucille Clifton’s 1987 poem “Homage to My Hips” describes her hips as big, more likely to be shamed. Our social norms and dress codes are not only coded with gender bias but also by race.
The fight over dress code is about the culture and sex wars. This year, as my school sought to see how the community feels about the dress code, it sent out a survey to students, faculty, and parents. An anonymous parent who took the survey wrote: “The girls dress like whores. Then they wonder why my son looks. Ridiculous!” Girls at my school have been called to the office and cited for dress code violations numerous times while boys experience no such scrutiny.
These experiences are shared across the country, with studies showing that dress codes regularly include more rules on girls’ dress
than boys’. Even gender-neutral rules are unequally enforced. The code has become not about clothes but about girls’ and women’s anatomy: thighs, shoulders, chest, abdominals. A teacher once talked to my class about the dress code. She spent twenty minutes discussing how girls may not wear too-short shorts, tank tops showing shoulders, or shirts that reveal too much cleavage. She spent the entirety of one minute stating that boys may not wear hats or hoods while in class (a sexist statement in itself considering that girls also wear hats and hoods). She then claimed she could alter student grades based on how they dressed. Now even girls’ grades would be compromised based on the teacher’s judgement of their bodies.
Dress code should be distinguished from school uniform. Uniforms serve a distinct purpose of creating homogeneity among peers: they can mitigate socio-economic disparities as well as reduce some of the inevitable anxieties that children experience while trying to keep up with the latest trends and fashion. These goals are valid but must be weighed against an understanding that, for high schoolers, often what we wear is as much an expression of our identity as a functional choice. Fashion creates a sense of self and choice provides empowerment and individuality.
Like mine, many schools are seeking to update their dress codes in this changing climate of sexual relations. New policies should be gender-neutral, set clear regulations, and must not be enforced in ways that demean and shame young women.The focus should be on a notion of professionalism, not modesty. Administrators must be informed about research on uneven enforcement, learn about best
practices (for example, the ACLU offers guidance on how to avoid gender and racial biases in dress codes), and receive specific training aimed at reducing discretion in applying the code. We must safeguard against subjective reinforcement of biases and stereotypes. Dress code at its best should serve the purpose of creating more, not less, harmony and equality at school. The size of a girl’s hips cannot be used to classify her worth and appropriateness.
Danielle Amir-Lobel is a junior at La Jolla Country Day School. She has won sixteen Scholastic Art and Writing Awards for her creative work and was a topical winner for the American High School Poets National Contest. She is an editor of both The Palette, La Jolla Country Day School’s newspaper, and Pegasus, a student publication for writing and art. Danielle loves exploring the world around her and recently summited Mount Kilimanjaro. She also enjoys swimming, singing, playing the violin, helping those in need, and reading Tolkien.
Coding Bodies and Hip Size
Honorable Mention in the Hips Contest
One hot California day, I was walking to my AP Spanish class, wearing shorts and a t-shirt. My midday class was on the upper level of the school. Little did I know that stairs would present an opportunity for male administrators to look at me from behind and below. Only after I was seated in my classroom did a male administrator call me out. Apparently, he had watched me ascend the entirety of the stairs, contemplated the “appropriateness” of my appearance—the tightness of my jeans over my hips and the way they shaped my body—and determined that he had the power to rule what is acceptable coverage for a freshman girl’s body. He pulled me out of class, disrupted my learning, and ruined my day. He succeeded in challenging my self-esteem, as I was suddenly self-conscious of my changing body—something I have no control over.
Dress coding girls does not make them more aware of the clothes they randomly select from their closets. Rather, it makes them ashamed of their bodies, self-conscious over the sway of their hips, and treated as a threat that must be thoroughly covered so that it does not distract boys from their learning. Subjugating girls to shame and interfering with our school day is acceptable. By creating these standards, schools reinforce the concept that “boys will be boys” and it is girls who must change to serve this notion of “boyhood.” I say no. Girls will be themselves, not disgraced into changing who they are to suit the views of boys or men. Boys must be held accountable for their actions with the expectation of dignity and respect. Teaching high schoolers otherwise reinforces rape culture and stereotypes of gender roles. Indeed, several studies have found that still today, people blame victims of sexual assault as responsible for their attack if they “dressed provocatively.”
Social scientist Shauna Pomerantz describes dress coding as a form of victim-blaming. Throughout history, feminists have been
fighting rules and actions that attempted to deprive us from autonomy over our bodies. It was not long ago that courts allowed defendants to interrogate rape victims about their sexual histories and their dress to suggest that “she was asking for her attack.” Some of the most unequal societies around the world are also those who “protect” the purity of women by covering them up, sometimes completely banning women from public life. Instead of focusing on girls’ dress, schools must educate boys that, no matter what a girl wears, she never invites an inappropriate stare or comment.
Dress code is not an objective matter. I saw girls wearing the same exact shorts on different days who were not shamed for their clothing. Often it is the fuller, more voluptuous girls with larger hips who are targeted while the slimmer, hourglass body types can get away with identical outfits. Studies show that men regularly, and often subconsciously, judge women on the size of their hips and that hips are the number one “problem area” that models need to tackle to get runway-ready. With dress codes that are open to subjective interpretation, school is no different. Selective enforcement allows teachers and administrators, frequently men, to pick and choose which girls they think do not look proper. The decisions they make may not even be consciously biased, but they are patterned with the pervasive, unrealistic body image norms that exist in our society. I cannot control my body type and should not be subject to unequal treatment at school—just because of the way I look.
In addition to being sexist, dress codes are also enforced based on racial stereotypes. A 2018 study by the National Women’s Law Center of schools in the D.C. area concluded that “dress codes promote race and sex discrimination and pull students out of the classroom for no good reason.” The study found that teachers enforce the rules more strictly with black girls and in ways that are humiliating, including sending them home. In 1986, the black poet Lucille Clifton’s 1987 poem “Homage to My Hips” describes her hips as big, more likely to be shamed. Our social norms and dress codes are not only coded with gender bias but also by race.
The fight over dress code is about the culture and sex wars. This year, as my school sought to see how the community feels about the dress code, it sent out a survey to students, faculty, and parents. An anonymous parent who took the survey wrote: “The girls dress like whores. Then they wonder why my son looks. Ridiculous!” Girls at my school have been called to the office and cited for dress code violations numerous times while boys experience no such scrutiny.
These experiences are shared across the country, with studies showing that dress codes regularly include more rules on girls’ dress
than boys’. Even gender-neutral rules are unequally enforced. The code has become not about clothes but about girls’ and women’s anatomy: thighs, shoulders, chest, abdominals. A teacher once talked to my class about the dress code. She spent twenty minutes discussing how girls may not wear too-short shorts, tank tops showing shoulders, or shirts that reveal too much cleavage. She spent the entirety of one minute stating that boys may not wear hats or hoods while in class (a sexist statement in itself considering that girls also wear hats and hoods). She then claimed she could alter student grades based on how they dressed. Now even girls’ grades would be compromised based on the teacher’s judgement of their bodies.
Dress code should be distinguished from school uniform. Uniforms serve a distinct purpose of creating homogeneity among peers: they can mitigate socio-economic disparities as well as reduce some of the inevitable anxieties that children experience while trying to keep up with the latest trends and fashion. These goals are valid but must be weighed against an understanding that, for high schoolers, often what we wear is as much an expression of our identity as a functional choice. Fashion creates a sense of self and choice provides empowerment and individuality.
Like mine, many schools are seeking to update their dress codes in this changing climate of sexual relations. New policies should be gender-neutral, set clear regulations, and must not be enforced in ways that demean and shame young women.The focus should be on a notion of professionalism, not modesty. Administrators must be informed about research on uneven enforcement, learn about best
practices (for example, the ACLU offers guidance on how to avoid gender and racial biases in dress codes), and receive specific training aimed at reducing discretion in applying the code. We must safeguard against subjective reinforcement of biases and stereotypes. Dress code at its best should serve the purpose of creating more, not less, harmony and equality at school. The size of a girl’s hips cannot be used to classify her worth and appropriateness.
Danielle Amir-Lobel is a junior at La Jolla Country Day School. She has won sixteen Scholastic Art and Writing Awards for her creative work and was a topical winner for the American High School Poets National Contest. She is an editor of both The Palette, La Jolla Country Day School’s newspaper, and Pegasus, a student publication for writing and art. Danielle loves exploring the world around her and recently summited Mount Kilimanjaro. She also enjoys swimming, singing, playing the violin, helping those in need, and reading Tolkien.