THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Thursday, December 22, 1994 TAG: 9412220546
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: MARC TIBBS
LENGTH: Medium: 65 lines
As I look around the newsroom I'm thinking: Any one of us could be a finalist for Mr. Blackwell's worst-dressed-journalist award.
My editor is wearing a pullover sweater and a baseball cap - one of the thousands in his collection. Another colleague is wearing a colorful vest, suede shoes, and jeans that stop nearly an inch above her ankle.
Almost anyone in the bunch can hold a reasonably intelligent conversation about Wagner's music, Einstein's theories or the scandals at the House Post Office.
But none of us could get a job at Ruffner Middle School.
That's the Norfolk school where teachers voted this week to adopt for themselves an eight-page dress code that prescribes everything from the length of a man's tie to the number of rings that can be worn on each hand.
On a recent afternoon, a group of Ruffner students was overheard discussing the new faculty ``Guidelines for Professional Presence.''
``Teachers should be able to wear leather skirts,'' said 13-year-old eighth-grader Angela Robinson. ``What they wear isn't affecting anybody's learning.''
Taken as gospel, that statement might reflect a childlike simplicity, but it gets to the heart of what's wrong with the school's new guidelines.
The fashion manifesto, which officials say is a precursor to a student dress code, puts learning on the back burner; style before substance; a belt before pants.
Principal Pamela Hoffler-Riddick inspired the guidelines when she hired a Virginia Beach image consultant to teach her faculty the finer points of fashion at a seminar this summer.
I knew I was in the wrong business when I found out the consultant was paid $4,000 for what amounts to telling teachers not to wear lingerie in class.
With her flip charts and felt-tipped markers, and at taxpayers' expense, Mary Jane Barnes must be laughing her way to the bank.
After the seminar, the Ruffner teachers formed a task force and adopted many of the consultant's guidelines. Hoffler-Riddick has intimated that she will help arrange transfers for any staff member who won't comply.
The code bans ``exotic'' hairstyles, like dreadlocks or mohawks, with exceptions for religious expression. And it details other standards, like the ideal length of a man's trousers or a woman's skirt.
But it also goes on to prohibit jeans, cleavage and halter tops, while mandating hosiery, deodorant and underwear.
Local fashion-writer Monique Williams says the guidelines are a waste of good money.
``You can't legislate fashion,'' Williams said. ``That principal could have gone out and bought a good `Dress for Success' book and got that same information.''
Which is my point exactly: If teachers need a handbook to know they should wear deodorant, public schools are much more endangered than we realize.
And anyway, no fashion faux pas is worthy of Gestapo tactics.
Hoffler-Riddick says it's all part of preparing children for the 21st century.
``What we're saying is, we should set a standard for what children should look like,'' she said.
Some children, however, are understandably wary.
``When teachers start buying my clothes,'' said one Ruffner student, ``they can tell me how to dress.'' by CNB