Sun's out, guns out, as the saying goes, and with spring, shirtlessness abounds. With the temperatures rising and the sky clear blue, what's so bad about a little bikini action on the Green?
Whether your last final was streaked, a blur of pale flesh ran by while you were grabbing coffee in Novak or the pong team beside you got Golden Tree'd, you've likely seen nudity at Dartmouth on more than one occasion. In fact, the last pair of naked pong losers I witnessed found themselves completely ignored by the population of the basement they streaked. Aside from mild dismay when the streakers interrupted their rallies, students didn't bat an eyelash; the streakers halfheartedly ran a few laps before realizing that no one cared. Since each of us have such blas views of naked peers, why make a fuss about bathing-suit clad sun-seekers?
Beyond the normalization of un-attire, appropriate dress at Dartmouth is practically defined by its unconventionality. Unless you take the fashionista approach too far, which will result in a few raised eyebrows, Dartmouth students learn from the first moments of their DOC trips that everything from pink hair, spandex and sequins, to Carharts, Birkenstocks and North Face is appropriate day or night. A trip to a basement on any given night will reveal everything from sweats to button downs to heels, while a stroll across the Green includes tees, dresses, jeans and yes, bathing suits. During Fall term it will also likely include some [voluntary] sirens, lunchboxes, inside out sweatshirts and oversized nametags.
With such a nonchalant view of attire and the lack thereof, it's against Dartmouth's very nature to condemn donning the perfect midpoint of that dress code spectrum: the bikini.
The need to strip down is really a matter of acclimatization. Judging the more northern-oriented among us for sweating as soon as the thermometers bypass 75 is the equivalent of judging the more southernly students for bringing out their down jackets when the temperature drops to 40. One student's crisp fall day is another's arctic tundra, while one's summer breeze may be another's melting pot. For those less adjusted to the soaring temperatures we've been enjoying, wearing anything other than the skimpiest of bathing suits seems cruel, unusual and sticky.
Of course, discussion of climate issues ignores the real reason bikinis have invaded the Green. Tired of the winter-induced paleness, tanned skin looks good on everyone. Farmers' tans don't.
The potential obnoxious sight of those wearing a bathing suit on the Green remains. If it really bothers you, then don't let your eyes wander from the gravel path as you traipse from Dartmouth Hall across to Collis. Better yet, walk around the Green, and while you're at it, steer clear of First Floor Berry on Sunday evenings. If you're craving lawn sans bathing-suited peers on which to eat your panini, trek to the BEMA, or simply choose a farther corner of the Green. Scientific fact: 90% of the Green-sitters and sunbathers are concentrated in the quadrant adjacent to dining halls, so walking the extra 30 feet will make all the difference.
When you really think about it, whether or not bikinis are appropriate on the Green, the entire debate illustrates a bit of a double standard. Guys can don bathing suit attire (read: shirtlessness) anywhere, from basements to frisbee-tossing and hamburger-grilling outside. There's no reason that girls shouldn't be able to do the same.
The taboo of even owning a cellphone evolved to the recent slew of iPhones and Blitzes sent via Blackberry in just a few years, so it's only a matter of time until this aversion towards bikinis becomes a relic of the past. The Green will be a male torso-dominated social space no longer.
Once dropped as a subject of conversation, bikinis on the Green can finally transition away from latest facetime hot topic to its practical function of relieving overheated northerners and facilitating full-body tans for all. With the sun shining, seasonal affective disorder finally alleviated and Green Key in t-minus two weeks, there's no reason not to smile.
Joanna is a staff writer for The Mirror. She hopes the Dartmouth nudist colony moves to fraternity status soon.
