IN ORDERLY FASHION: THE UNIFORM

DIVYA BALA INTERROGATES THE TRANSFORMATIVE POWER OF THE UNIFORM.

By Divya Bala

A chrysalis of cloth, a metamorphosis of self. In the carefully orchestrated realm of visual identity, the uniform becomes a sort of transitional state, a code unraveling in threads. We are creatures of perception and the uniform outlines a fragile truce between the collective and the personal—a symbol of conformity and individuality, constraint and liberation.

In cognitive priming, repeated exposure to one stimulus influences responses to subsequent stimuli, highlighting the uniform’s ability to shape our perceptions and actions. Like a sartorial echo, wearing or seeing an assembly of clothes in repetition can trigger certain psychological states and expectations, ultimately altering one’s behavior from within and towards it. More than mere fabric and thread, a uniform can become a vessel of transformation, a garment that transcends physical form to embody identity, purpose, and power.

“When I put on the uniform, I cease being who I am on the weekends or overnight,” explains Alexandra Williams, a general practitioner. “When you first graduate, you have imposter syndrome and you’re not sure you quite belong. I remember the first day I wore scrubs to work and suddenly I felt like I was recognized, by the hospital establishment and others. I was entering an identification, in a way.” On this shift in perception, she adds, “I think [people] see you as someone who is working in what they might consider an honest career.”

For professional netballer Joanne Harten, her uniform was a tangible manifestation of her calling. “It was a dream to own the England dress; it was very much an aspiration of mine to play for England as a young teenager. The first time I wore it was the start of the journey, almost like a permission to perform.” Harten describes, of her experience with her first netball uniform, that of the England Roses, the national team she would join several years later. Today, Harten plays for Australian team, the Giants, whose orange uniform forms key elements of on-court strategies. "When we talk tactics, we often talk about, actually, the color of our uniform," she reveals. "So I want you to see a wall of orange when we're defending and a wave of orange." The uniform becomes a strategic tool, a visual representation of their collective strength and determination. "You've got this, like, army of orange in the crowd, a wave of orange on the court," she continues, "And, you know, you link the fans to the players, to the tactics, to the club, and like the thread runs through everything with the color."

The concept of the uniform is deeply woven into the fabric of human history. Established around 500 B.C., the roman military region is considered to have innovated the first uniform, a loosely-regulated tunic, alongside lorica segmentata (segmented armor). This standardized armor and helmets not only provided protection in battle but also instilled a sense of collective identity and discipline. The samurai of feudal Japan wore distinctive armor and carried swords that marked their status as elite warriors, their clothing imbued with symbolic meaning and cultural significance. Religious orders, too, have long utilized uniforms to express their devotion and distinguish themselves from the secular world. The flowing robes of Buddhist monks or the habits of Catholic nuns serve as visual reminders of their spiritual commitments and communal bonds. The first school uniforms were introduced in England in 1222, continuing through to modern iterations, intended to give schools a sense of identity and, in some cases, create a sense of equality to students and even promote greater academic results. As societies evolved, uniforms became increasingly formalized, with military and police officers across cultures adopting elaborate uniforms with insignia to denote rank and achievement. The Industrial Revolution further cemented the role of uniforms in the workplace, as seen in the standardized attire of railway workers and factory employees, designed for utility, to promote efficiency and reinforce a sense of corporate identity. Standardized prison uniforms were introduced during the Victorian era to curtail escape attempts and concealed objects. Today, uniforms continue to permeate nearly every facet of society, leaving a tangible impact on our psychology and behavior.

The corporate dress code, though it may be open for greater individual interpretation, behaves in a similar fashion. The encouragement—or enforcement—of specific attire and tailoring serves to subtly reinforce hierarchies, create more cohesive workplace culture, create a sense of professionalism or even stifle creativity, to an extent. However, for Catherine Allard, associate at a corporate law firm, the uniform acts as a carefully curated armor, a shield against the traditional and often male-dominated environment she navigates. “My work wardrobe is a kind of uniform. As a young woman in a very traditional male-dominated environment, it helps create a persona,” explains Allard. “For example, I always wear high heels—no exception—to ensure I have the height to see eye-to-eye with male peers and be taken seriously. They give me a little bit of power, and I feel more in control. Similarly, a sharp jacket can feel imposing in a sense.” Her choices, including boxy-tailoring inspired by Yves Saint Laurent silhouettes from the 1970s and 1980s, are a deliberate act to command respect and assert authority, to extrude the body from its feminine signifiers such as a slighter height or feminine curvature.

“I’m a ballet dancer and the way you present yourself everyday in the studio could determine which roles you might be more suited for in the eye of whatever authority is in the room,” says François-Eloi Lavignac, demi-soloist for the Vienna Ballet. “Wearing a full lycra ensemble is not really something I would do on the street, but in my daily work life, my work uniform is super tight fitted lycra tights or unitards. In ballet, there’s a culture around the shape of your body as representative of how hard working you are. So, lycra and skin-tight pieces show your willingness to really work on your technique and body shape.”

The uniform, then, becomes more than just a garment; it's a vessel of transformation, a silent storyteller, a key that unlocks hidden potential within its wearer. Whether scrubs or suiting, the uniform speaks volumes before a single word is uttered. It's a language woven in threads, a narrative etched in seams. In spaces that constantly seeks to define and categorize us, the uniform offers a unique paradox: a canvas for both conformity and individuality, a space where we can simultaneously belong and become.

See The Other Me, Edd Horder’s portraiture series of working women in London.