We were supposed to try on our band uniforms a week ago, after school, but the music room was crammed to the hilt with folding chairs and music stands and there was nobody to guard the door. Just holding them up over our clothes, it was hard to tell how they’d fit. Now we know. “Do I look like Uncle Sam in this?” Felicia asks. The jackets are thick blue wool with bright brass buttons and yellow braiding; the pants are white with knifelike creases down the front and adjustable waistbands. The hats are hard blue cylinders with a short white brim, on top of which a hunk of braiding is secured by two brass buttons; a white strap buckles under the chin. You’re allowed to wear your own shoes, but there’s a black felt flap that buttons over the instep, creating the illusion of spats. First problem: the hat is resting on my ears, which means they are exposed. Second problem: the entire uniform is too large and too stiff for me—it looks like the person has withered away and the outfit is there on its own.
