Now that UGA has reconvened, a slow drive down Milledge—which is the only kind you can do now that UGA has reconvened—reveals an update on current student attire. Women’s shorts, like the Dow Jones average, just keep on going up, even shorter this year than last.The Milledge journey also provides an opportunity to see just how closely men are coordinating their clothing. Khaki trousers are the baseline, and there is apparently still some leeway for slight deviations in the shades of khaki, just as the polo shirts atop the khakis don’t yet have to be a complete match, nor do the sneakers. But the trend is still definitely toward standardization, as if there were a military inspection before leaving the frat house.
Socialization is an important part of college, and looking just right is an important part of socialization. These students will be judged for the rest of their lives by how they look. The wrong clothing choice can be devastating, can keep them out of their Greek club of choice now, and in the future can mess up a first date, doom a job interview or deny a lucrative marriage.
That’s why fraternities and sororities are so important. If you’ve got other strong enough points, you’re given some wiggle room when you’re being rushed—especially if you’re one of the few not from Atlanta—but as soon as you are in, it is vitally important to your sisters and brothers that you “fit in,” and they will make sure that you do. You will look like a Chi or your life will be miserable. It’s a tough standard, but it will pay off handsomely in your dating and working life.
I know. The housemother of a fraternity here was from my hometown, and as a high school senior, I accompanied my mother when she was invited to a reception for that housemother at her fraternity house. I was, of course, all dressed up in my suit. (I was what the late, great Athens banker Charlie Burch would call a “one-suit man.”) I met a lot of the brothers, and later in the spring they invited me over for a patio party, with the invitation stipulating “casual attire.”
This was a big problem. I thought I knew what casual attire was, but I also knew that I didn’t own any. I wore my suit on Sunday and the rest of the time jeans and some kind of shirt from our family store that immediately announced that I did not fit in, i.e. not buttoned down, no useless little loop on the back nor an alligator or polo player on the front and was in some not-subtle pattern and color. I had seen Bermuda shorts but had never known anybody who wore them, except my don’t-give-a-damn older cousin Miles.
I didn’t know what to do. I considered declining or just not showing up, but I was flattered to be invited and liked some of the brothers I had met. I didn’t have time to drive over to Athens and buy some casual clothes, and wouldn’t have known what to buy.
I did the only thing I could. I wore my suit with a white shirt and tie, ready to pretend I had overlooked the casual-dress injunction. As soon as I set foot on the patio, some of the brothers who had befriended me rushed over and got me out of the coat and tie and rolled up my shirt sleeves to make me look as casual as a non-beer-drinker could look.
Well, it all turned out OK, but I never did feel like I completely fit in, unlike some of the other guys from small towns who hit the downtown mens’ stores and came out cool from shirt to shoes.
It’s easy to view student behavior as strange—as strange as their view of ours—but that’s what Athens has always been about. It’s our town, but it wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them. And they’re a good reminder that we’re all in our own way still trying to fit in.
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