Oh my god, guys ... OMG ... four years, and ... it's almost over ... [hyperventilate into a paper bag].
Brace yourselves, do whatever you have to do, but get ready, because the time has come for Haute Hufft to bid Dear Old Dartmouth adieu.
Based on the classic clich, I can state three known things: college is supposed to be the best time of our lives, time flies when you're having fun, and all good things come to an end. The obvious conclusion: college is ending, it happened too fast, and, according to the theorem, pretty much nothing good awaits us after we yank our hard-earned diploma from President Wright's hand, pack up our lives and ship on out of Hanover to take a stab at survival in the Real World.
But then again, we also know that when one door closes, another opens. Some may say that every path has its puddle; but then again, every cloud has a silver lining. I mean, at least that's what I heard through the grapevine.
If it's not one thing, it's another. High school was supposed to be the time of our lives. But while Vitamin C (remember the song "Graduation"?) may hold these truths to be self-evident, I am pretty sure high school can't hold a candle to the sweet-ass time we have had in college.
So what does all this have to do with fashion? Everything, obvi. The more things change, the more they stay the same. I remember my high school graduation like it was yesterday. My preschool graduation, however, is another story.
But, based on a picture of my three-year-old self, I recently came to the strange realization that fashion truly is cyclical. The white, knee-length, empire-waist Cynthia Steffe dress that I just ordered from Saks for Dartmouth graduation bears a surprising resemblance to the little white eyelet, inset-V, ruffled, empire-waist dress that Mama Hauteness designed for my graduation from preschool.
Essentially, we could deduce that I am exactly the same at age 22 as I was at age three. This, obviously is wrong. But then again, maybe it's not. As they say, you can't teach an old dog new tricks. Or can you? Where exactly is fashion headed? Am I destined to buy another slight variation of the same white dress that I wore to preschool and college graduation when I get married? That's just plain frightening.
Let's look at it from another angle. In his comedy routine "I'm Telling You for the Last Time," Jerry Seinfeld does a little number on his predictions for the future of fashion: or rather, as he forecasts, in the future fashion will no longer exist. Why? Let's hear it from the funny man himself:
"Clothing to me, for the most part, is just such a tremendous pain in the ass. If you think of the amount of time, mental effort, physical energy that goes into your clothes: picking 'em, buying 'em, does that go with that, I don't think I can wear that, I'm missing a button, this is dirty,
I gotta get something new, that's up my ass, can't wear this ... I think we should all wear the same exact clothes. Because it seems to be what happens eventually, anyway. Anytime you see a movie or a TV-show where there's people from the future or another planet, they're all wearing the same outfit. I think the decision just gets made: 'All right everyone, from now on, it's just gonna be the one-piece silver suit, with the V stripe and the boots. That's the outfit. We're gonna be visiting other planets, we wanna look like a team here. The individuality thing is over.'"
I mean, I don't know how far into the future Seinfeld is looking, but I certainly hope it isn't any time soon. There is no moment in the foreseeable future that I envisage myself being caught dead wearing a) a one-piece silver suit or b) something that the entire galaxy is also wearing. Maybe some of my past behavior says otherwise (i.e. the graduation dresses); and maybe I can concede that I was a little bit envious of the Catholic school girl outfit as a high-schooler (I mean, you can't deny that the pleated plaid skirt and knee highs is a cute look when you're 15), but I like to think we all have a little more individuality than that.
That said, the individuality thing is not over. Fashion may be cyclical, but it is never truly repetitive. Variations of the white dress will (thankfully) always be around, but designers seem to have a knack for tweaking an old favorite in such a way that it becomes a new trick every time it hits the runway.
And, let's get realistic here (since we are talking about the Real World and all): We can't actually consider Jerry Seinfeld -- known for his tapered Levi's, turtlenecks and white tennis shoes -- to be an even-slightly trusted weatherman for the future of fashion. After all, the time, mental effort and physical energy that we put into picking out our clothes is one of the best parts of fashion. I'm embarrassed to admit the number of hours per week (or even per day) that I spend browsing department store and fashion websites as "research." The amount of time I spend thinking about clothes far surpasses the amount of time I spend on class work or maybe even sleeping.
Maybe that's why I'm so upset to see Haute Hufft come to an end. After today, I'll have no legitimate excuse to be browsing the internet 24/7 for the latest fashion trends. But then again, I'm sure I can come up with some sort of pseudo-justification (I mean, we all have to be well-dressed and up-to-date, right?). Let's face it, fashion is always changing and we must monitor it constantly in order to stay haute on what's hot. But then again, fashion always seems to stay the same. For the same reason that I have unknowingly purchased the same shade of M.A.C. lip gloss or Revlon nail polish at least five times over the years, I will always be drawn to the same style of white dress that Mama Hauteness dressed me in when I was three, and that I subconsciously sought out for college graduation. Maybe that's my version of the one-piece silver suit with the V stripe. Or maybe it's just a good eye developed at an early age and passed down from a mama who knew her sh*t.
I prefer to believe the latter. That might just be my way of dealing with the daunting idea of becoming a soon-to-be active participant in Life-After-College. But something tells me that, while the silver suit will never catch on as a world-wide uniform, the little white dress will remain a constantly updated classic for years beyond my ability to foresee.
This column may end, but the hauteness will never die. Whether we're preschoolers, soon-to-be college graduates, seasoned professionals or soccer moms, we've all got a little hauteness in us. June 11 may seem like a daunting hurdle to cross, but, as they say, this too shall pass. Until then, though, let's live in the moment, and revel in the fabulousness of the white graduation dress. If you ever start to panic, just take solace in the lyrics of Vitamin C's "Graduation": "As our lives change/ come whatever/ we will still be/ friends forever." I mean, if that's not poetry, I don't know what is. Personally, I'd rather get lost in a Marc Jacobs dress. He may not realize it, but he and I will always be the best of friends.
