The strongest memories that I have about the clothes I wore as a boy was
the short pants I wore. By the time I returned to the United States, however,
in 1965, I was 13 years old and wearing long pants. I wore shorts at
school in France, but thankfully my parents were realistic enough not to
insist I wear my French clothes when we returned.
After the year in Paris, we moved to Tuscon, where I attended 8th-12th
grades. Shorts were never worn to school, except for a special
Bermuda shorts day held one spring as part of a fund raiser. I remember musing in
the non-descript, mediocre junior high where I went to 8th grade what kind
of reaction I would provoke if I showed up dressed the way I had the
previous spring -- or better yet, the way one of my best friends dressed --
yellow sweater, real short, trim gray corduroy shorts, white knee socks. I
think it probably would have violated the school dress code. I really
missed Paris -- not just, or even primarily, wearing shorts to school, but
that sort of became a symbol in my mind for those delightful months in
France. I continued
to wear shorts in the summer for casual wear--a few other boys did too,
although not many.
Author: Bruce McPherson
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