parents, measure your daughter's skirts

by at least three fingertips' length

parents, measure your daughter's tank top

by at least two fingers wide

"sweetie, come with me."

"why?" i ask

my friends are watching, the classroom is mostly silent

"sweetie, come with me."

"why?" i ask again

"what is our rule about skirts?"

I look down

mine is just above my knee, which apparently translates to something

this fabric sends signals i'm unaware of

"take my hand, we'll go to the front office."

"why?" my question goes unanswered again

she takes my hand and leads me to the front of the classroom

my friends are still watching

"class, what's wrong with her skirt?"

murmurs erupt, snickers scatter around

one boy says he like it

another shouts that it should be shorter

now they're laughing

"class, we'll be back."

she squeezes my hand

her eyes say i should've known better

that i learned the hard way

she leads me out of the classroom

we walk down the hallway to the office

as she tugs me along

parents, measure your daughter's shirts

the chest and midriff must be covered

parents, measure your daughter's pants

no loose clothing allowed, but it cannot be tight either

she's back in class now, shutting the door behind her quietly

that's not what she was wearing before

"what happened?" i ask

she says

"my pants were too tight. they showed my figure too much."

her outfit is unenviable

an oversized black and orange sweatsuit

DRESS CODE is stamped along the arms of the hoodie and the sides of the sweatpants

"how long do you have to wear that?" i ask

"for the rest of the day." she answers

she is an example

to the rest of us

of what not to do

a dress code inmate