In the arctic tundra that many of us now call home, staying warm is crucial, albeit difficult. A reliable winter coat, among several clothing accessories, is a necessity in any student’s wardrobe. For some reason, this winter term has seen a seemingly unprecedented cultural revolution in students’ outerwear decisions at the College. I am, of course, speaking to the ubiquitous Canada Goose parkas that have flooded campus. Its is almost mind-boggling that so many of my peers have decided to invest in such a ridiculous piece of clothing.
Canada Goose produces premium outerwear for extreme weather — with “premium” being the key word. While I cannot speak personally to the quality of the coats, I hear they are both light and excellent at keeping their owners warm. They seem to be products of a high quality, and quality must be paid for — but this is when things take a peculiar turn.
Considering the popularity of Canada Goose and the fact that nearly half of campus seems to wear its products to class, I would have expected these jackets to bear an affordable price tag. It blew my mind to discover that a single Canada Goose jacket goes for $600 to upwards of $1,000. Coyote fur-lined hoods and a 2013 Sports Illustrated cover with Kate Upton donning one aside, what sets these apart from a North Face or Mountain Hardwear jacket, which one could purchase for a fraction of the price?
As savvy as Dartmouth students are, many of us fall prey all too easily to consumer trends like the Canada Goose. Many of my peers may have arrived at the same conclusion as I have, and some may realize that these jackets are overpriced status symbols. What is disturbing, though, is that many students seem to have chosen to ignore their common sense in favor of the in-crowd mentality. It seems that no one wants to be the person without the Canada Goose arctic patch on his or her jacket — but why? Would doing so would somehow convey some sort of inferiority? The Canada Goose is but the latest Dartmouth trend that demonstrates the socioeconomic elitism that comes with conspicuous consumption. L.L. Bean Boots, a mainstay in the College’s culture, are not exactly affordable either — the cheapest pair is $99, and that’s for the style without the Thinsulate or fur lining that Hanover weather essentially demands.
My issue is not necessarily about the jackets or the shoes, but rather what they represent about the culture at the College. It seems that status and perception, for many students, are primary concerns. I, for one, do not feel the need to buy a sense of belonging through grandiose symbols of wealth, and many students surely feel the same way. There is, however, an undeniable pressure to do so, especially for younger students who are often eager to assimilate to what they perceive a Dartmouth student should look like. The reality is, however, that not everyone can afford such excesses just to fit in — and the College’s financial aid packages do not cover social status expenses.
We were admitted to the College as individuals, not a collective group. So why should we behave according to what the group thinks? If I want to show up to class in a hoodie and sweatpants, I damn well will. It does not make me any less of a person because I did not take the time to dress up for people who judge my character based on appearances — just as not everyone wearing a Canada Goose jacket looks down on those who do not. I am sure that few people will actively sneer at somebody else because of what they do or do not wear — and, frankly, we should not care about the opinion of those who do in the first place. Whether we realize it or not, however, these biases and pressures affect all of us.
No one needs to conform to the ideals of being a “proper” Dartmouth student — behaviorally or aesthetically. There is no definition of a “proper” Dartmouth student, and staying true to ourselves wins out in terms of long-term happiness. But please, do not spend $600 on a winter jacket just because everyone else did.
