Sad but true: I’ve now let my profession determine what’s appropriate for me to wear, even when I’m not actually at work. I had come to terms with having 2 sets of clothes: ripped jeans are for the weekend and wearing a v-neck anything is a risk for me at work. Also risky? Wearing white jeans. While they might look great on, they’re also a recipe for disaster: colored chalks love white jeans as much, if not more than I do. But outside of work, I pretty much felt free to wear whatever I felt like wearing. Until last month…

Early May, a friend and I had plans to go out for drinks. The weather was getting warmer and warmer, so I decided to wear an open-back top. I had purchased it back in January when the sun sets at 5pm and the only time my back ever sees any light is in the shower. Finally, I could wear it out. Still, right before leaving the house, I decided to put a jacket on: the month May in Montreal being what it is, I know better than to walk around with exposed skin come nighttime. But to be honest, that’s not the only reason why I covered up. I did it because part of me wasn’t fully comfortable heading out with my back exposed… I just wouldn’t admit it to myself.

Last week though, I had to admit it to myself: something has shifted in me. I was a Joe Fresh and a top spoke to me. No worries: ask anyone who has ever gone shopping with me, it happens all time. But this particular top was different: it was sheer. And pink – they called it light tan, but against my skin, it came off as being pink. Nothing about it said Today, I wore black, but for some reason I was drawn to it. Ok fine, I was drawn to its price.: $10 – I can’t say no to a 10$ clothing item. So although wearing a sheer, pink top would have totally be out of character for me, I wanted to give a try. Maybe it had to do with that Garance Doré article I had read. Or maybe it’s my longing for the return of hot and humid summer nights… Whatever it was, it made me want to try the top on. And I liked it: I liked the price, I liked the way it looked on me… and then, I remembered… I remembered that I am a high-school teacher. A high-school teacher wearing a sheer top? Big no-no: I see students, current and old, everywhere. At the mall, at the restaurant. and yes, even at bars. And tell me: where else beside a bar would I ever go to wearing a sheer top? And just like, in a fitting room at Dix30, my personal and professional life crashed into one another. And I hadn’t even seen any student yet. So I didn’t buy the top, even if it was only $10. I left the store feeling deflated and a bit angry: there are now things that I won’t wear by fear of being seen by my students?

Maybe that’s why on Saturday I wore that open-back top again. No jacket or sweater this time. It was as if I needed to reclaim my non-teaching self… Two things happen though: first, when my mum and dad saw me in my I-refuse-to-let-my-profession-dictate-what-I-can-or-cannot-wear-on-my-own-time top, they advised me that, as a married women, I should now cover up a bit. And at the end of the night, I almost froze to death. Proving that while my profession might not kill my swag, married life and Montreal’s crappy weather probably will.