A couple of days ago, a girl walked past me in grey skinny jeans and a pair of sky-scraper stilettos. It was a pretty hot outfit. But this wasn’t at some hip club or smoky jazz club downtown. It was 11 a.m. on a Wednesday, right on Sheridan Road.
To be honest, I was surprised on the first day of class when I saw so many fashionable students walking to and from class, dressed ready for a party. As a transfer student from Boston University — an institution with an eclectic mix of designer-garb-only fashionistas and hipster elitists — I never thought that Northwestern, a school in the Midwest, could exceed BU’s fashion-forward status. But with so many students strutting down Sheridan like it’s a catwalk, I couldn’t help but assume that NU students would be as judgmental as some of my former classmates when it came to clothing.
On the first day of classes, I wore skinny jeans, a plain tee, and a pair of sandals. Hardly a catwalk outfit, but far from disheveled — and my neighbors eagerly introduced themselves. Before my very first lecture, I had a nice conversation with a bright-faced, curly-haired freshman and an older French exchange student. If I had been dressed in a different outfit, would these students have so readily included me in their conversation?
So, I conducted an experiment. I reserved a couple days during the first week to dress more slovenly, just to see what would happen here at the Northwestern fashion show. Wearing yoga pants, a baggy tee and a pair of Pumas (an outfit I would usually wear to the gym), I went about my usual day. Would there be a major difference in how people treated and conversed with a somewhat unkempt classmate?
Pleasantly, students reacted to me in exactly the same way on my scrub-day as on my first day. In my messy outfit, strangers still smiled and said, “Hey, I’m [insert your favorite name here]. What’s your name?” Maybe the shallowness of BU fashion scene is not found at Northwestern.
After lecture that day, I ran into Weinberg sophomore Heather Ghee who, wearing dark, wide-legged jeans and a black-and-white checkered top, was definitely one of the better-dressed students. Despite her stylish attire, Ghee said that once the “beginning” of the year ends and she has re-adapted to academia, her daily staples are t-shirts and sweats. She said she dresses up for the first few weeks of class both for herself and to shape the perception others will have of her.
Though she seemed aware of the fact that she would be judged by her wardrobe, she seemed just as surprised by the idea that she would judge fellow students in the same way. “I wouldn’t be more inclined to talk to a well-dressed student,” she said.
That’s the view I got from every student I talked to: Wearers of bedazzled tank-tops and wearers of beaten-up sweatpants agreed that their fashion choices were mostly personal, and they didn’t pay all that much attention to the clothes around them. Weinberg junior Amanda Stamelos put it best: “I do this for myself.”
Sure, students talk about a variety of motives for dressing a certain way–for confidence, for shaping others’ perceptions, for self-expression. But all these reasons come down to a common Northwestern trait: As pre-professional, ambitious people, we are always ready to impress. Maybe other students don’t care what you’re wearing, but the fact that you took the extra five minutes this morning to look presentable will speak about your professionalism to those who are paying attention. Our SAT scores and high school GPAs may not matter anymore, but our desire to get ahead still influences us down to the wardrobe.
So while it was jarring at first, I heartily approve of the ramped-up fashion sense of Northwestern. After all, when we’re 30 and the CEO/editor-in-chief/big cheese, we’re going to have to reach over our comfortable sweats and grab the Club Monaco garments. They won’t feel as fuzzy on our skin, but they’ll say something: “Hello. I’m here and ready to work.” And we’ll be ready, too.