Help, What Do I Wear?
Header by Annie Bueler
In my recent exchange overseas into the wonderful country of Spain, I thought I was prepared for university fashion. I’d like to think that I dress pretty well, and that I could approach my semester abroad with the same outlook that I have here at Queens. Oh boy was I wrong.
Picture this. It was my first day of class on a beautiful, sun drenched campus. The buildings were intricate, the grass far greener than the Kingston grey slush, and the birds were singing my name. This was going to be a great semester, albeit arriving with challenges such as the language barrier, and culture shock, but I was feeling prepared. Ready. Fashion was the last thing on my mind. Dressed cute, but casually, in a black T-shirt and baggy jeans, I was feeling confident. Imagine my surprise when as I rounded the corner to my building, I encountered a pack of Spanish chicos dressed in tight-fitting chinos, dress loafers, and crisp button-downs, tastefully unbuttoned to show a flash of their gold chains. I took this in my stride: perhaps it was the same situation as the school of commerce here. Some of the guys like to suit up. My feeling of shock turned to dread as I saw a group of girls walk towards me, dressed in flowing blouses over business-like slacks, long maxi dresses tiered with ruffles, and chic waistcoat and pencil skirt combinations, all combined with real designer handbags and Steve Madden sandals topped off with a look of disdain at my lowly garb. Oh god. What had I gotten myself into?
It’s safe to say that acceptable university fashion was very different at la Universidad Pamplona, Spain than here in Kingston. The students dressed as if they were going into the office. I found myself constantly comparing myself to them, and tailoring my own outfits to fit the bill. However, despite my best efforts, it was clear that I just didn’t have the inventory, or money, to compete with them. I could spot my fellow exchange students from a mile away, in our hodge-podge efforts to adapt our limited suitcase fodder to what was clearly in vogue on campus. My Australian friend had once made the grim mistake of wearing shorts and flip-flops onto campus: it’s safe to say he never repeated the offence.
Comparing this attitude towards university fashion to Queen’s, where it is commonplace to dress casually, I began to weigh up the pros and cons of each. While it was sometimes fun to have a reason to dress up a little bit, it soon got tiresome. I knew I was going to be judged on what I was going to wear, before I’d even had the chance to express my thoughts on the class material. Though, on the other hand, did dressing more professionally make my fellow Spanish students take university more seriously and engage more in classes? Inversely, does dressing in sweatpants make us, here at Queen’s, more inclined to fall asleep during lectures? Exhausted by all this fashion rumination, and feeling more like Joan Rivers than ever in my life, I came to an epiphany that felt neither profound, nor original, but rather, truthful in its simplicity.
It didn’t matter.
My brain capacity wasn’t going to change depending on the way that I dressed for class, and likely, dear reader, neither will yours. Though I know that this will all change if you choose the corporate lifestyle, I'm choosing to make the most of the current moment, and so should you. Right now, our profession is to simply learn. However you want to dress to soak up as much knowledge as you can is your choice! Whether that’s a business casual look that makes you feel like a boss, or sweatpants so you can be cozy in your library chair, it’s up to you. I’ve come back to Queen’s feeling a sense of relief, but also liberation. One day you might find me dressed to the nines just to wait in the Cogro line, and the next, in borderline pajamas on my way to battle the masses for a seat at Stauffer. To once again repeat the adage that hassold millions of self-help books and magazines all over the world: just be yourself. The rest will follow.
