She has about six rings on each hand and a crap-load of bracelets.
With aviators on top of her head and a small black crop top designed to show, of course, a diamond navel piercing and perfect set of abs.
Pan down to reveal cheeky jean shorts, specially made to reveal the ‘perfect’ amount of gluteus.
Top it off with a pair of faux leather destroyed combat boots.
We have all been there. We have all seen it make its way through our line of vision, and attempted (although not always successfully) to look away.
We have all thought to ourselves: ‘what were you thinking this morning?’ And maybe, for some of us girls: ‘I wish I were that comfortable with my body!’
The way individuals dress has always been considered a form of self-expression and originality, however, trends are set and maximized by celebrities, events and the media to create the norm. Here at City College, we can thank all big music festivals for creating what I like to call a sea of weather-confused Coachella-ready peeps.
So, to the girl in the butt-cheek showing Levi’s: Coachella’s not ‘til April. Yes, I promise. This is school.
Fashion has somehow gone from ‘what a slut her ankles are showing’ to ‘this is not a bra it’s a bandeau’.
The must-have shorts that we girls typically choose to wear often fall about half an inch short of being considered underwear. And as for the dresses, lets just say you better wait for everyone to go by before you walk up the stairs.
It was during summer school when I realized that tasteful wardrobe choices are, unfortunately, subjective.
While walking through the Interdisciplinary building, I came across one of my fellow scantily clad comrades experiencing what I believed to be a bit of a wardrobe malfunction (one I had just recently encountered myself).
This girl and I had met at parties once or twice through mutual friends, so we both knew who the other was but not enough to say something. Let’s just refer to her as Jane Doe, for both my sake and hers.
She wore a super cute two-layered mini-dress. The first layer fell somewhere between being too long to be a shirt, but far too short to be a dress you wear in front of anyone over the age of 27. Nonetheless, stylists provided a second, slightly longer, yet very transparent layer making it apparently okay to call it a dress.
It was apparent that Jane Doe’s bottom layer had ridden up, for one reason or another, leaving a small portion of cheek on full display.
I altruistically thought to myself: ‘Maybe this poor girl doesn’t know’. I thought: ‘honey, let me help you.’
I rushed up to her and gave her an extremely awkward, barely-touching hug.
While doing so, I whispered in her ear something along the lines of “even though you barely know me, your dress is pulled up and we can all see your butt cheek.”
“Oh my gosh! Thank you,” Jane Doe said unenthusiastically.
She then gave me a look that was a hybrid of disgusted and amused. I could see that the way I approached her was, perhaps, not the most graceful of choices, but definitely what I would have wanted someone to do to me when I was in her situation.
She hastily walked away, adjusting her backpack only to reveal that the ‘rump-on-display’ look was actually how the dress was intended to be worn.
Mortified, I realized I had just insulted this girl’s outfit, and possibly even her character.
As great as it is to express your individuality and be comfortable with your body, I believe that there is a time and place for everything.
Society today has presented the idea that less is more. The fashion choices that are sported at music festivals such as Coachella have bled into everyday style, and people strive to fit in to that specific image. This is a fad that I too have fallen victim to.
The things we choose to wear are often a reflection of our self-image and how we wish to be perceived.
So honestly, when I’m in class, I don’t want to see your butt, not even a little jiggle…