“Thursday we commence, Friday we convoke.”
Thank goodness my academic gown was good for something! The racket those manufacturers must run makes me weep. The year I graduated the university changed its policy on renting graduation gear I had to buy my whole kit instead, and I wore it for a grand total of two hours. Luckily Sav and I are the same-ish height and when she needed a last minute gown, I was thrilled to oblige her with mine!
Academic dress loses some of its oomph on this side of the Atlantic. In my parents’ hose there’s a great picture of Mum kneeling with her hands between those of the Vice-Chancelor, feudal style, exchanging Latin phrases with her Masters hood trailing down her back. Much cooler than our polyester blends robes and little to no ceremony. Although apparently one of J.’s professors taught classes in his academic robes because, in his words, “When you think of all the time and money I spent earning them, this is the most expensive suit of clothes I own. And I’m going to get my money’s worth!”
No offense to either Mum or this entirely awesome professor…I think J. looks the best in his own get up. We are officially done with his undergraduate degree! Good Friday indeed!