I opened the door to my room and shuddered with disgust at my once silver flats that I’d recently bought from TJ Maxx in West Leb. Hardened, shrunken and just plain sad-looking, this fashion find I’d once been so proud to own represented the third generation of “frat shoes” that I’ve had to toss since arriving at Dartmouth. With the inevitable pong mishaps, layers of filth on the floor and soupy, slushy puddles to dodge when frat hopping, clothes take the heat. So how do Dartmouth students cope when visiting with these treacherous jungles of love?
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From togas to tackies, at Dartmouth we spend most of our social lives playing dress up. Strange? Maybe. Even stranger? When Dartmouth students have to wear real clothes. Ty Moddelmog ‘08 summed up Dartmouth’s “basement style” geniusly saying, “In the basement the idea is, ‘How can I make ‘em think dirty thoughts in clothes that I don’t mind dirtying?’” I would further clarify that this describes the basement fashion of the Dartmouth female, whereas for the Dartmouth male (with the exception of my favorite variety, the metrosexual) basement fashion is more like a lack thereof. They have the granite of New Hampshire in their brains, and they dress to show it — most often as a lumberjack. When you see a Dartmouth frat boy in a button down shirt, you know he is busting out the big guns.
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Break out the thong sandals, oversized aviators and skorts, ladies and gentlemen, it’s Spring term and 35 degrees! Now, for those of you who are experiencing your first faux spring in New Hampshire, keep those spirits up. By Dimensions Weekend in mid-April, James Wright makes his annual special collect call to God, and suddenly the grass is green and it is 75 degrees. Just hang in there, because soon enough life will be quite beautiful.
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Spending Spring Break in sunny Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, was one of the best decisions I’ve made in college. For those who have never been, blacking out on spring break is like Tiger Woods winning golf tournaments: It’s just expected to the point that when it doesn’t happen, people are surprised and start to wonder what went wrong. Not unlike big weekends at Dartmouth, the most frequently heard question is, “Wait, I did what last night?”
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Spring Break can be rough on the body. Whether alcohol ravaged your liver or your threw out your back gyrating your way onto a “Girls Gone Wild” video, your fellow collegiates can certainly feel your pain. With this bond in mind, Jean Ellen Cowgill asks for a sympathetic ear.
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Over the break, I was jamming away to the Bryan Adams — the best thing to come from Canada since snow — when I noticed something: I really wish iTunes would go back to putting artists that start with numbers first alphabetically instead of last. It’s a great deal more awkward to have Aaron Carter atop my music library than 3 Doors Down.
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This Winter term, Elliot Mattingly ‘09 traded Hanover snow for Southern Hemisphere sun, spending three months in Buenos Aires, Argentina, volunteering with the family-practice department of a large public hospital. With only introductory Spanish under his belt, he spent his spring break traveling the country with an eclectic mix of foreign students and expatriates. Mattingly flew up to the famed Iguazu falls on the Brazilian-Argentine border, and then headed south to Bariloche, the picturesque gateway to Patagonia.
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‘11 Girl 1: Are you going out tonight?
‘11 Girl 2: I don’t even want to go out. I just want to go somewhere and be cute.
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