Identity, conformity, and garment: a most interesting trifecta
- This is a text from my writing archive. Please see here for more details!
- Essay written for: Popular Texts for Young People unit, 2nd year of Bachelor of Arts (English) degree
- Task: “In this essay, construct an argument about any of the Grishaverse novels by Leigh Bardugo (I chose Shadow and Bone) and one other popular YA novel for young people we have NOT studied in this unit (I chose Reboot by Amy Tintera)”.
- Grade: HD
- Task submitted: 28/10/2022; formatting updated 19/11/2022
All views expressed were relevant as of the submission date. They may no longer be relevant as of the date read.
As an individual presently transitioning from male to female, I am acutely aware of the power garment holds in delineating unique identities. Whether it be race, class, or most pressingly gender, each garment I wear signposts some aspect of my personhood. Given my circumstances, this projection is rarely authentic; any garment positioning my real identity is a rare moment of catharsis. I have grown to appreciate these brief moments of respite, and to incorporate small, meaningful choices of garment into seemingly conformist ensembles. Something that has given me solace in this struggle is finding characters who have similar relationships with garment. Despite their military contexts being far removed from my struggles, the protagonists of novels Shadow and Bone by Leigh Bardugo and Reboot by Amy Tintera experience phenomena similar to mine. Thus, both of these texts position garment as a balance between individuality and conformity in their otherwise homogeneous military environments.
Garment can both create and reflect individual identity, and is thus essential to the character development of both texts’ leads. Kaiser et al. examine this bidirectional relationship between garment and wearer in “Fashion, Postmodernity and Personal Appearance: A Symbolic Interactionist Formulation. They conclude that while neither half of the relationship can exist without each other, their combined meaning must be socially negotiated between the wearer and the viewer (180). By positioning this subjective notion, the personal symbolism in garment is emphasised. In other words, “through an active manipulation of symbols, individuals can strive to construct an identity that enables them to organise a personal sense of existence” (173). However, it is critical to note that these symbolic garments are not necessarily extraordinary; they are chosen for their meaning to the wearer by the wearer, and thus the “original meanings of social reality to which [the garment’s] appearance refers becomes moot” (174). This personal connection to donning garment is the key to this essay.
On the other hand, it is also vital to acknowledge the conformist power structures garment and identity occur in. In the case of the novels’ protagonists, these can be the military forces they belong to, or the demands of their self-perception. In “The Uniform: As Material, As Symbol, As Negotiated Object,” Carrie Hertz deconstructs self- and organisationally-mandated uniform codes. Despite acknowledging the increase in group cohesion and camaraderie military uniforms can provide, Hertz posits that external factors can decrease their efficacy (51). These include “the organization or group bureaucracy that interprets and enforces that intention” and “the wearers who either conform with, deviate from, or negotiate that intention” (53). These contextual factors can inhibit the suppression of individuality, though ultimately, all factors depend on “the strictness to which a uniform code is enforced (50). It is this intersection of individuality and conformity that is needed to understand both texts adeptly.
Leigh Bardugo’s Shadow and Bone follows Alina, a former orphan and army cartographer whose supernatural Sun Summoning powers are suddenly revealed to herself and others. She is subsequently drafted into the Grisha, a division of the military whose soldiers wield similar mystical abilities. The Grisha leader — the Darkling — is smitten by the extent of Alina’s power, and demands her military uniform, or kefta, to be constructed in the same black as his own garb. Despite the unprecedented offer, it is rejected by Alina, who asks for the same blue kefta as the other Summoners. She is pleased with the garment when it is constructed, as due to her supposed lack of magical aptitude, she had never anticipated receiving the rank of Grisha. However, she is later forced to wear a black kefta by the Darkling, who wishes to mark her as his property for a celebratory ball. Alina is initially pleased to be so close to the Darkling, but becomes repulsed after she learns his true desire to enslave her.
Alina’s choice of a blue kefta in Shadow and Bone symbolises the dichotomy in her individuality within and conformity to the Grisha order. When the Darkling instructs his tailor that Alina’s kefta will be black, she interjects, exclaiming that “I… If it would be all right, I’d prefer to have blue robes, Summoners’ blue” (Bardugo 80). Despite Alina’s incomplete words highlighting her trepidation towards the Darkling’s potential response, it is the context of the quote in the broader narrative that cements its role in constructing her identity. As Alina is new to the Grisha order, it is a great risk for her to to subvert the wishes of the Darkling. In spite of this, Alina considers the colour blue meaningful enough to necessitate the risk. This meaning, of course, is the colour’s semiotic association with the Summoner Grisha; Alina wishes to belong to this newfound team rather than to be “singled out” as an apprentice of the Darkling (Bardugo 81). This merger of individuality (Alina’s rejection of the black kefta) and conformity (choosing Summoner blue) is referenced in Hertz’s aforementioned article as an example of the “complexly interwoven identities” that are still “present within uniform codes,” despite their supposed enforcement of homogeneity (Hertz 51).
To continue this intersection of individuality and conformity, Alina’s kefta becomes a metonym of her journey from orphan to Grisha. While packing her military uniform into her quarters, Alina observes her kefta and realises she had “never had anything made for [herself],” as a result of spending her life “in clothes passed down from older orphans, and then in the standard-issue uniform of the First Army” (Bardugo 85). By juxtaposing the well-worn orphanage clothes of her past with the brand new kefta, a clear distinction between Alina’s social class pre- and post-Grisha is drawn. However, the construction of these garments is also noteworthy. As the orphanage clothes were communal, they were designed using a one-size-fits-all approach. Alina’s kefta is the opposite, as it was draped directly onto her body for a perfect fit (Bardugo 82). This individualised aspect to a standard uniform matches Kaiser et al.’s position that in garment, “culture does not supply straight forward meanings but rather leaves individuals to their own devices to construct them” (168).
Conversely, the black kefta forced onto Alina by the Darkling allows her no individuality, instead symbolising his ownership of her identity. After seeing her wearing the black kefta at a celebratory ball, her (at the time former) best friend Mal disgustedly exlaims that “He [the Darkling] is all over you” (Bardigo 157). Despite angrily denying the claim, Alina admits that “It was as if Mal could see right through me, as if he could pluck every fevered thought I’d ever had of the Darkling right out of my head” (Bardigo 157). With black distinctly being the Darkling’s unique colourway, the kefta is associated with his identity rather than Alina’s. As her rejection of this colour (and therefore identity) was positioned explicitly beforehand, the donning of the kefta is a violation of Alina’s free will, even if that is not presently understood. This is reinforced by her embarassed and shameful tone when she admits Mal is right about the kefta; the specific word “fevered” carries connotations of crazed illness, positioning the donning of the kefta as a poor choice made in a delirious state. Despite these specific circumstances, Hertz’ argument that strictly mandated uniforms focus on “idealized states of control and conformity” and turn their wearers into “passive bearers of others’ agendas” fits this scenario, highlighting Alina’s unwilling conformance (53).
Despite being set in the future rather than the past, Reboot by Amy Tintera tells a similar story of individual identity and acceptance to Shadow and Bone. The protagonist Wren is a Reboot, a teenage slave-soldier reanimated after contracting a viral infection before her death. Despite her reanimation from prior viral exposure, it was a firefight that originally killed her; due to being deceased for 178 minutes before reanimating, her gunshot wounds did not heal back together. Hence, she has a large scar on her chest held closed with several staples, which she is insecure about and hides with an undershirt. Wren refuses to remove this garment under any circumstances throughout the novel, including to let herself be cleaned after being injured in a suicide and a hypothetical sexual encounter. The only time the garment is removed is when an abusive human guard removes it against her will in a strip-search for smuggled weapons. This instance is the first time her fellow Reboot soldiers see her chest, and it thus distresses her greatly.
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The undershirt is positioned as a constant in Wren’s life, with its permanent wear becoming part of her individual identity and a standard for herself to conform to. While Callum — Wren’s eventual love interest — is treating her after being shot during the aforementioned suicide, he asks “Are you wearing an undershirt?” to check for injuries. Wren “couldn’t comprehend the strange question” and does not respond; Wren’s assumption that the answer was obvious even in her confused and bloodied state emphasises how her self-perception includes the undershirt by default, as if it is a part of her body (Tintera 101). This role of the undershirt as an invisible yet crucial component of Wren’s identity is mirrored in its undergarment nature — not only does it hide her scar, but the undershirt itself is hidden by her Reboot uniform. Its omnipresence is then built upon by the one-word sentence “Always,” which is her internal monologue’s answer to the question Callum asked earlier (Tintera 102). The tight, blunt diction of this word thus removes any time frame from Wren’s donning of the undershirt. As mentioned previously, this effectively permanent garment links to Wren’s “personal sense of existence”, resulting from “the active manipulation of symbols” (Kaiser et al. 173).
This self-conformance to a body equipped with an undershirt extends to Wren’s desire to wear it during sex, emphasising the garment’s naturalised role in Wren’s identity. After escaping the Reboot facility and hiding in Callum’s prior house, he and Wren have the following discussion about whether they wish to have sex:
“We — we can,” I stuttered. “But we have to leave my shirt on.”
His eyes dropped to my shirt briefly. “Why?”
“It’s gross. It’s better to leave it on.”
“Gross?” he repeated in confusion. I said nothing and understanding crossed his face. “Oh. Is that where you were shot?”
“Yes.” (Tintera 178)
The fact that Wren will not remove the undershirt even during an act as intimate as sex highlights how intrinsically tied it is to her identity. However, the specific syntax used is also of note. As mentioned previously, short and blunt sentences such as “It’s gross” and “Yes” contribute to a clear sense of unchangeability in Wren’s opinion (Tintera 178). This phrasing is then complemented by her stuttering at the start of the quote, which positions Wren as scared of not conforming to her established self-identity during this vulnerable moment. The most critical part of this quote, though, is how “understanding crossed [Callum’s] face” when Wren did not answer his question about the scar (Tintera 178). This is a prime example of Kaiser et al.’s “Appearance management”, which is described as the “active process of identity expression, bringing to the surface and embodying meanings that are not easily conveyed in words” (171).
While Wren’s unwavering wearing of the undershirt is powerful, it is ultimately its forced removal for the sake of conformity that truly exemplifies the garment’s impact on her identity. During a strip search to check for smuggled weapons, all Reboots returning from a mission are asked to remove their garments; this results in Wren’s inner monologue exclaiming “The pants, fine. But the shirt. I couldn’t take off the shirt” (Tintera, 78). With her dismissal of the pants as an issue, she affirms that it is not nudity or following orders she is unable to contend with. Rather, the issue is the exact opposite: she desires to follow the order and conform, but this would require the desecration of her own identity. The repetition of “the shirt” in the quote emphasises this desperate conundrum, highlighting the fear and disgust she feels. The violation of her identity and own sense of conformance is eventually carried out by a human agent, who “grimaced at the right of the ugly scars stretched across [her] chest and quickly averted his eyes” (Tintera 78). As a result of this reaction, Wren’s hypothesis of self-disgust appears valid in her eyes. This deeply uncomfortable exchange is only made worse by the supposed validity of the human agent’s request, as due to how “uniform codes dictate a narrow parameter of what must be worn,” conformance does, in this case, necessitate the removal of garment.
With its protection and covering of the bare human body, it is impossible to unlink garment from our sense of identity. This is unfortunately nevertheless required in certain circumstances, as mandates of clothing conformity — organisational or otherwise — dictate what is acceptable for us to wear. Despite this, it is possible to impart our identities onto the simplest of garments, whether it be a military kefta from Shadow and Bone or an emotionally protective undershirt from Reboot. Regardless, the relationship between identity, garment, and conformity is unbreakable, as positioned in this essay.
Works Cited
Bardugo, Leigh. Shadow and Bone. Henry Holt and Company (BYR), 2012.
H, C. “The Uniform: As Material, As Symbol, As Negotiated Object.” Midwestern Folklore, 2007,
www.academia.edu/4044048/The_Uniform_As_Material_As_Symbol_As_Negotiated_Object.
Kaiser, Susan B., et al. “Fashion, Postmodernity and Personal Appearance: A Symbolic
Interactionist Formulation.” Symbolic Interaction, vol. 14, no. 2, 1991, pp. 165–185.
Tintera, Amy. Reboot. Allen & Unwin, 2013.
