DRESS CODE

It was the first week of my freshman year of college, and the mighty Paladins were about to open their season against their Division I-AA opponent. (Ignore, please, the fact that I obviously can't remember who my team played, or, in fact, whether they won and focus instead on how impressed you are that I know what division of NCAA football they're in, and that I even know what NCAA is). I was running late to meet some friends at the game, so I didn't have a lot of time to ponder what I was going to wear. So the usual 3.6 seconds it might have taken for me to choose which denim shorts (it was the 1990s!) and which Furman T-shirt I would wear was compressed into a 1.2-second decision.

I showed up outside Paladin Stadium and met my friends, one of whom was wearing the exact SAME Furman T-shirt I was wearing. We laughed, and I made him swear not to pull that shit at the Oscars, and we headed for our seats in the student section.

Now, I am from the South. I like to think I know from Southerners. But I was NOT prepared to enter that stadium to find the majority of my fellow students -- at an outdoor, late August football game in sweltering South Carolina, mind you -- dressed UP. The girls, hair done and makeup perfect, wore fancy sundresses and heels. The boys were in -- say it with me -- khaki pants, blue sportcoats, dress shirt and ties. Apparently, I gathered later, this is mostly a Greek thing. Which is to say it is stupid.

As evidenced by the fact that I can still remember all this in vivid detail all these years later, I guess I am a little sensitive to dressing appropriately for the occasion and location. And weather. I mean, look, I'm far from perfect. I've been known to wear white after Labor Day (Yeah! I have! I said it!). And half my clothes don't fit quite right. And I refuse to wear pantyhose in any situation. And maybe I don't wash my jeans all that regularly.

But I think there should be rules.

Like don't wear pajamas and slippers in public. This shouldn't even be a rule, because who would do that? Apparently, much of the female population of my adopted hamlet of Garner, that's who. A few weeks ago, I dashed out to a Chinese takeout place in a nearby strip mall to pick up some dinner, and the woman in front of me was wearing pajama pants (not good, but not SO bad), actual bedroom slippers (ummmm,no) and ... a terry cloth bathrobe. I mean, really? Really? I don't think it's necessary to dress up for the takeout line, and I would have given a pass (albeit a slightly snarly one) to just the PJ pants with, say, a T-shirt and sneakers. But GOOD GOD. You couldn't substitute a jacket for the robe? Just, no.

I thought it was an isolated incident, but then last weekend I was in a PetSmart in the same strip mall and saw a woman (not the same one) wearing pretty much the same ensemble, except she did have the decency to rock a jacket instead of a bathrobe. But actual bedroom slippers, and PJ pants. NO NO NO. No.

Another rule should prohibit flip-flops when it's cold. You make me weep. 

I could go on, but I feel a rage-induced swoon coming on. I believe I shall gather up my skirts and pantiloons, smooth my apron, don my gloves and depart.

Comments

[Kim Ginfrida]

I agree with you on the pajamas. I've seen teenagers and college students doing it, and I give a pass once or twice to them, but adults? Come on. It's like they're trying to get on What Not To Wear.

[Michael Wheeler]

You didn't go to Florida. What are you doing wearing jorts?

[Amy]

And I thought I was tacky when I get lazy in the sweats and a ball cap! A robe? Really? Wow.... I remember the Greek thing ALL too well- Thank God those days are OVER!!!

[Janna Fischer]

We Yankee Greeks go to football games the way Mother Nature intended: jeans and T-shirts. Or, more likely given Yankee-school weather, two pairs of long underwear, hat, parka, gloves, etc., etc., and a school sweatshirt somewhere under all that mess. I may or may not have ever work Greek letters to a football game, though.

[kate]

Yeah, the Greek boys in my time and place (Washingon state) had a uniform for sure, but it was the Dockerish shorts and a t-shirt and baseball cap. And tennis shoes or crappy American sandals. The same garb I saw all over Europe that screamed, "I'M AMERICAN! AND A DOOFUS, AS WELL!"
PJs in public. Yowtch.