Obviously, your gandmother never watched "The Avengers"...I wore that collar in mortal fear that Miss Emma Peel might, at any time, jump out from nowhere and drop me cold with one chop, drag me off and ravage my bones to the marrow when the only bra on my mind was algebra. Or what if Odd-Job decided to tip his hat in my direction. On the other hand, it may have been our equivalent of a nose ring and a tattoo.
I will say it kept me from doing the Coors head-drop after lunch in Junior English class when we'd ditch, go to Sid's market, buy a bologna sandwich and a colt 45 and come back to class belching out our dissertations with a half a heat-on and an overflowing bladder. Hard to put one's head down on the desk when supported by a collar that was like fiberglass. Pehaps that's why the style of leaving the tails untucked evolved. I mean, those starched razor-sharp shirt-tails might have done some real damage in the hands of the less than coherent.
I noticed the styles starting to change when pot became prevalent in 67-68...remember someone hit me with a luggie in line at the Avalon Ballroom...thank God I was wearing that starched collar...I'll bet it saved my life.
jb-Westmoor '68 Alakazip!