It sucks to be a freshman on the first day of class. You make it to the top of the heap in high school, only to take the plunge right back to the bottom in college. Thousands of bodies populate a new environment that, for you, is unchartered territory—a strange minefield of confusing turns, nameless faces, and endless possibilities.
It was a hot—no, broiling—day in late August when my own term as a naive freshman began. I had gotten stuck in the old dorm without air conditioning that was touted as “the dorm with history.” After sleeping in next to nothing (it would have been nothing if not for my roommate) and battling for the cool spot under the covers all night, I had one thing to say about historic appeal—it’s way overrated. Needless to say, I was less than pleased when my oscillating fan did not prevent me from waking up slightly nauseated and, let's not beat around the bush here - soaked in sweat, from the thick cloud of Southeastern humidity hanging over my bed.
First mission of the day, besides bringing my body temperature back down to the realm of normalcy, was to pick out my First Day of Class ensemble. Nevermind the fact that I had absolutely no idea how to get to class...which started in 25 minutes. We'd been forced to go on a guided tour of campus during Freshman Orientation, but let's be serious - I was way busier people watching than memorizing the the layout of the quads. And the fruits of my labor did prove somewhat fruitful; I memorized the route to the closest coffee shop from my new digs. I decided I'd swing by the cafe (it was called Carey's but everyone just called it "the cafe"...so original) where I'd pick up my iced coffee and subtly ask for directions to Reilly Hall. I was never one to pass up the chance to mix caffeine and business.
Back to my main mission: piecing together an outfit that would pass for Midwestern-girl-meets-Southern hospitality. One by one I went through my wardrobe, psychoanalyzing each article of clothing and the image it would project.
White eyelet skirt. Too girly.
Blue shorts. Too casual.
Yellow blouse. Too…conservative.
Finally, I found it. My signature look. It all started with a dress—dresses were my favorite. Freeing, feminine, flattering. And this one, well…this one was just right.
Cobalt Blue. Everyone likes blue. Belted. Belts are good—shows off my waist. Moderate neckline. High enough where I can wear it in an academic setting but low enough to, well...
Face: bronzed. Cheeks: blushed. Lips: red without trying. A quick brush to my naturally wavy blonde hair and I was out.
I was also never one to discount the power of first impressions.
