The first time a person falls in love is universally recognized as one of the most refreshing and magical experiences available on the emotional spectrum. But like all good things, this feeling must come to an end, leading to one of the hardest heartbreaks a person can feel. The first time I fell in love was no exception.

I fell in love for the first time on November 13, 2015.

It was one week before a huge mock trial tournament and I was in a panic. After trying on my ensemble from last year, a nice tweed skirt suit, I had been shocked to discover that unless I planned to wear about six belts, there was no way my skirt was going to stay up in court. So there I was at the mall searching frantically for a suit. And not just any suit. A power suit. I had been into three stores already and was beginning to lose faith and consider the drab gray skirt suit I had seen in J. Crew, when it happened. I fell in love for the very first time. I spotted it.

It was the definition of the phrase power suit. A striking bright red pantsuit, fashioned with thick, professional, fabric and crisp pleats. I was smitten. I immediately purchased the suit and wore it to the competition. While there, I got numerous compliments on how cool the suit looked, and how powerful it made me seem. I felt awesome wearing the suit, like I was unstoppable. The suit took on an even deeper meaning when I learned of Nancy Gertner, a former federal judge in Massachusetts, as well as the author of the book “In Defense of Women: Memoirs of an Unrepentant Advocate.” Nancy Gertner is a graduate of Yale Law School, and the definition of a strong woman. She had achieved everything I had ever wanted, and was known for her signature red suit. Not only did the suit look formidable, it made me feel as though I were channeling the strength of Nancy Gertner, one of my greatest role models.

A few weeks later, when we received the comment sheets written by the judges, I was shocked to discover that not all of the judges were fans of the red suit. While the overwhelming majority of the feedback was positive, a few judges were absolutely opposed to it. One judge even wrote, “Red suit was far too aggressive.” What surprised me most was not the fact that there was negative feedback, but that the negative feedback was only from the female judges. Disheartened, I began to resent the suit which had once made me feel so powerful.

As our next competition approached I found myself hunting for another suit. Even if I had wanted to wear the red suit, it is a well known fact among the mock trial community that Arizona judges are very conservative, and as a result garb should be kept relatively conservative. Pant suits in place of skirt suits are considered relatively risky, so I feared a bright red pant suit would detract from my scores. This fear was founded upon the comments of one prominent member of the mock trial community, who, upon finding out about my red suit, seemed appalled informing me that this disrespectful garb was almost definitely reflected in my scores. After fretting over finding a suit which fit perfectly into these parameters, I realized how ridiculous they are.

Why should it matter what I wear to court? As long as it is professional, shouldn’t I be allowed to don whatever outfit I see fit? The red suit was entirely professional, and yet I experienced an unprecedented amount of backlash. I wonder if had been male if I would have been called too aggressive, or if my attire would have been commented on at all. I know for a fact that the Brophy mock trial team does not face the same parameters when deciding upon their trial garb that the Xavier team does. Is this double standard combined just to mock trial? No. These expectations of females and their attire can be found all throughout today’s society, and it is clear that they must be fixed. But what is the best way to go about this? Continuing to wear the suit would certainly send a message, but the reflection in my scores would hurt not only me, but my teammates as well. Additionally, this is a widespread issue and one outfit worn for one day by one feisty high school student certainly wouldn’t change much. But not doing anything is not something that I am okay with. It is when we fall into the opinion that we cannot change anything, and passively allow these wrongdoings that we lose all hope of any change ever.