This week, the DM Manual of Style explores the arrogance of fashion fads at Dartmouth. As far as status symbols go, Greek and sports team gear are top currency at the College. Both girls and guys wear their pledge shirts long after the term is over, and it's usually pretty easy to spot varsity athletes on campus they're the ones you see sporting logo-emblazoned T-shirts, jackets and backpacks in The Hop and on the Green.
Although Greek apparel enjoys widespread popularity across campus, some Dartmouth students definitely sport it more frequently than others. Ben Driver '12, a member of Psi Upsilon fraternity and the men's swim team, said he typically wears Psi U apparel three or four times a week and swim team clothes twice a week.
"Sometimes I try to look preppy, sometimes bro-y [or] fratty and sometimes more hood or whatever," Driver said. "Usually I like to combine the three if possible."
Admittedly, the penny-wearing culture isn't unique to Dartmouth, but its presence is quickly approaching pandemic status on campus, especially in these last few weeks. But according to Driver, wearing T-shirts from a student organization like DREAM is no different from donning frat or athletic apparel, as both demonstrate justifiable pride in the group.
"Some people might just wear pennies because it's way too hot outside," he said. "I just think there could be a lot of different reasons."
There's also a big market for recognizable (read: expensive) brands at Dartmouth but when dressing to impress, subtlety is key. Most of us are way past the middle-school trend of wearing annoyingly obvious logos, but designer clothes will always be symbols of economic status. There are some exceptions to the subtlety rule, of course. Tory Burch flats, adorned with a large gold medallion on the toe, are almost cute enough to warrant their incredible price tag at $195 and up per pair.
Girls reach for their Hunter boots when it gets muddy or rainy, and Winter term wouldn't be complete without weekly blitzes about lost black North Face jackets. But we're not surprised when people are looking for missing Burberry or Michael Kors duds, either. Our collective fashion consciousness extends far beyond the frat basement, however, as everything from Under Armour to Lululemon (whose yoga hoodies can run up to $128) cover sweaty bodies at the gym.
Frat boys often rock an impressively erratic combination of designer and downright grungy, but their understated style means you might not notice their Cole Haan loafers or Diesel jeans.
A discussion of campus fashion wouldn't be complete without mentioning the one thing more conspicuous and quintessentially Dartmouth than the Sun God flair.
Students dressed in sequined spandex and chicken suits don't even elicit raised eyebrows at Late Night Collis, and particularly outrageous items of flair are often coveted bequests. Whether you cashed out on that sheer lace American Apparel onesie or bartered for those '90s Levis jorts at the Salvation Army, flair seems to be the only fashion "style" that transcends the Greek affiliations and bank accounts of the men and women of Dartmouth.
But is wearing flair just a cheap plea for attention on frat row? Do we don stripped spandex, feathered tiaras and animal print bandanas just for the facetime, or because we love the people that gave them to us?
Allyson Gittens '12 said she looks for comfort, not fads, when choosing flair.
"It's more liberating that way," she said. "I go for a good combination of random stuff."
Her most coveted piece of flair? A blue and yellow trucker hat stamped with "Perfect" on the front.
"Ironic, but it's perfect for those bad hair days," Gittens says. "I put it on and I don't even care anymore. The sillier the flair, the more comfortable I feel."
According to Marietta Smith '12 and Heather Roland '12, there are two types of flair: the quick pick-ups that add a superficial gleam to any outfit and the consecrated hand-me-downs.
"There's a shirt I saw passed down [that was] stained with blood from a woodsman meet from years ago," Smith said with a twinkle in her eye.
But in the interest of preserving the character of a piece of flair, Dartmouth students often sacrifice hygiene, as Stacey Derosier '12 points out bluntly.
"That shit never gets washed," she said. "It's hard to believe that people think they're really fly when the stuff that they're wearing smells like doo-doo."
