2008 Woodie Awards
To the nines
Dave Kelly
Issue date: 8/28/02 Section: Commentary
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It was two years ago, during the beginning of my freshman year at Georgetown. I was in a large history class, and on this particular day I was, as usual, running late. I managed to shower, throw on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and run out the door. It was still very warm outside, and I noticed most of the female students were modeling fashionable summer dresses, along with the obligatory manicures, pedicures, tans and make-up that so elegantly create that combined look of physical health and subtle affluence that dominates our campus. The air of fashion was also bolstered by the fine pressed pants, collared shirts, ties and clean-shaven faces of many of the men in my classroom. I observed the students around me and noted two facts: it was just past nine in the morning and probably over 90 degrees outside. I took it all in with the same mixture of semi-conscious surprise and gentle disgust that had brought my body to full awareness many a morning that semester. I was in a college classroom and felt like I was about to go clubbing.
The dress code at Georgetown has always been one of the aspects of the University that has brought the least amount of joy to my life. "But wait," you may say, "there is no official dress code at Georgetown, you stupid ^&*%^!" True enough kind reader, though the potty talk begets nothing. There is no official dress code here, but there is nonetheless a very noticeable mode of apparel that always seems more appropriate than others, just as there is often an unspoken impetus to look your best at all times of every day, not just when you are going out at night.
I often walk around this campus in mesh shorts and soccer sandals with two days worth of stubble on my face. I am in the minority. This is not to say that I always dress this way. For most of the week I can be depended upon to adorn a collared shirt and fashionable footwear, and I can wear a suit as well as the next muscular young college kid. It is also not to say that I am not clean. I shower at least once a day and am regularly complimented on how nice I smell, often by complete strangers. Of course, in some cases they are probably hitting on me. Still, if one stops and thinks about the myriad of ways in which you can compliment another human being, why choose to focus on odor if there were not a good reason?
The dress code at Georgetown has always been one of the aspects of the University that has brought the least amount of joy to my life. "But wait," you may say, "there is no official dress code at Georgetown, you stupid ^&*%^!" True enough kind reader, though the potty talk begets nothing. There is no official dress code here, but there is nonetheless a very noticeable mode of apparel that always seems more appropriate than others, just as there is often an unspoken impetus to look your best at all times of every day, not just when you are going out at night.
I often walk around this campus in mesh shorts and soccer sandals with two days worth of stubble on my face. I am in the minority. This is not to say that I always dress this way. For most of the week I can be depended upon to adorn a collared shirt and fashionable footwear, and I can wear a suit as well as the next muscular young college kid. It is also not to say that I am not clean. I shower at least once a day and am regularly complimented on how nice I smell, often by complete strangers. Of course, in some cases they are probably hitting on me. Still, if one stops and thinks about the myriad of ways in which you can compliment another human being, why choose to focus on odor if there were not a good reason?
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