But the blues are neat. The crisp white shirt, with the black houlderboards embroidered with golden anchors, the black pants with the sharp creases...although I wish I had freaking pockets. I don't own a purse, and someone finally got a clue and pulled them from our seabag, but we still have no stinking pockets.
The jacket is nice, too. Bright ribbons against the black fabric, silver ship on the warfare pin cutting proudly through waves bordered by sabers, and gleaming gold on the chevrons, rocker, and service stripes.
I put it on, and feel the heavy years of tradition settling around my shoulders. This uniform isn't really so different from the one the WAVES put on in WWII. But women have come such a long, long way since then. Heck, women have come a long way since 1987.
Today is a morning for thinking, it seems.