What does the uniform say about a school – and its pupils? Sophia Martelli investigates
Every parent at some stage has to ask themselves: ‘Which school will suit my child?’ It’s a serious matter and no one — surely? — would consider it on the basis of the fetchingness (or not) of the school’s uniform. But it might be rather entertaining if one did. So which of the UK’s independent schools get top marks for style, and which are bottom of the class?
It is, of course, a matter of taste, and some schools’ uniforms are wackier than others; whether these teach pupils fashion exuberance in later life is open to question. If they did, however, Tony Blair might have more interesting dress sense: pupils at Fettes College, Edinburgh, endure a brown blazer with magenta stripes, or a pale sea-green tweed jacket matched with a long, formal dark green tartan kilt (and that’s just for the boys). Is it possible that Blair’s shamelessness can have sprung from the thick skin that must be necessary to sport such an embarrassing ensemble?
Equally colourful is the uniform at girls’ boarding school Downe House, a school which might attract the intellectually gifted but not necessarily the style-conscious on the showing of the verdant green blazer with scarlet stripes, paired with scarlet V-neck and green skirt. You don’t have to be colourblind to go here, but it helps (that, or have a fondness for colour equal to Zandra Rhodes’s). Kate Middleton apparently left Downe House after being bullied, but even she couldn’t have looked good in the uniform, a fact which may have influenced her decision to leave (at least she missed out on the 1970s version — an unbecoming shift known as a djibbah, the deep hems let down as their wearers grew taller). The Duchess of Anglesey went on to Marlborough School, where the navy, blue and white uniform must surely account for the formation of her traditional, classic taste.
Traditional in the extreme is the uniform of Christ’s Hospital in West Sussex: it has remained the same since 1552 (give or take a little polyester, one presumes). You might think that pupils there — who have to wear floor-skimming dark blue ‘housey’ coats, yellow socks, knee-breaches, and starched neck bands — might feel a little daft. Not a bit of it. Offered the chance to update it to a more contemporary look at the end of last year, 95 per cent of pupils voted in favour of keeping their Tudor-style robes (the school’s most recent famous alumni inevitably include some theatrical types).
School uniforms were widely introduced during the reign of Henry VIII and, as at Christ’s Hospital, dyed blue long coats were the form. Blue dye was the cheapest available and the costume was intended to demonstrate humility among children attending the school. Today uniform is still usually a levelling factor, although it could be argued that this is reversed at top schools such as Harrow, where a monitor’s black top hat is £158 and the full uniform costs around £2,000.
At Hill House, the first prep school to count British royalty (Prince Charles) among its pupils, Mrs Stuart Townend, wife of the founding headmaster, is often noted to have remarked that ‘a grey uniform produces grey boys’. What would she have made of Westminster School, where it’s all about the school uniform as grey corporate suit? The height of rebellion in Dean’s Yard is a tail of untucked shirt, which leaves little room for stylish interpretation — viz Nick Clegg, who is reliable in his smart, dull choice of clothing.
Mrs Townend designed an outfit for Hill Housers that admitted not an ounce of greyness into the streets of Knightsbridge: burgundy knickerbockers, mustard jumpers, all finished off with an ebullient cravat. It’s no wonder the Prince of Wales found Gordonstoun, with its emphasis on dreary grey, navy and purple, a bit of a comedown: he described his time there as ‘Colditz in kilts’.
Princes William and Harry, of course, did not have to suffer the kilts of Gordonstoun, but the wing collars, waistcoats and tailcoats of Eton College (and what article about school uniforms would be complete without a mention of Eton?). The school’s famously formal attire harks back to the 19th century; thankfully the top hat and walking cane have been dropped. Of the uniform, J.D.R. McConnell wrote in his guide to the college, ‘There is no better cure for self-consciousness.’ It certainly seems to have prepared David Cameron, Boris Johnson et al for the slings and arrows of public life.