This one actually became easier once I thought about Spirit Week.
We had one of those “Teacher–Student Dress Like Each Other” days, and I wish I’d taken pictures of the kids who dressed like me. There were five of them. Five! It was a little enlightening — and, let’s be honest, a little humbling. Some of them even wore fake beards. Most of them stuffed their shirts to create a belly. Apparently, I look like I weigh over 300 pounds. (Note taken. Message received.)
But what struck me most wasn’t the playful exaggeration — it was the consistency. Every one of them wore the exact same thing:
A Polo shirt and slacks.
My unofficial teacher uniform.
It made sense. That’s my daily staple. If I lived in a place where the humidity didn’t actively try to murder me, I might go with the classic shirt-and-tie combo. But here in Florida, Polo-and-slacks is the sweet spot: respectable enough for a classroom, breathable enough for survival.
Then there’s the footwear.
For years, I wore dress shoes every day. Real, grown-up dress shoes. But being on my feet for hours at a time eventually caught up with me. I’d come home and immediately feel it — the slow, creeping soreness that only teachers, nurses, and theme-park employees truly understand.
So I switched. First to black sneakers that looked dressy, then more recently to a pair of Skechers slip-ons that feel like walking on supportive, orthopedic clouds. I’m convinced they’ve added at least two years to my teaching career.
So what are my two favorite things to wear?
1. A Polo shirt and slacks — my Floridian business-casual survival kit.
2. Comfortable shoes — specifically those glorious Skechers slip-ons.
If I had a third?
Fake beard not included.
(Though the kids seemed to think it was essential.)
It’s funny how we rarely think about our own “look” until someone mirrors it back to us — especially teenagers, who do it with surgical accuracy and zero hesitation. Seeing myself reflected in five little duplicates reminded me that our daily choices, even in wardrobe, tell a story. Mine says: practicality over polish, comfort over style, and whatever helps me get through 96 minutes of controlled chaos — three times a day.
And honestly? I’ll take that. Even the belly padding.
Copyright © 2025 Doug DeBolt.
