You can tell a fair amount about a person from the way they dress. I’m not saying you should judge people by what they’re wearing before you know them properly, but naturally, the clothes people wear tend to be extended expressions of themselves. If someone had scrutinized my outfit today, they’d have discerned that I had a rushed morning. I was trying to pass the just-effortlessly-rolled-out-of-bed-look, with an oversized checkered shirt and skinny jeans, but unfortunately, I looked as if I’d, well, just rolled out of bed without brushing my hair (which is exactly what’d happened.)
But in all seriousness, as someone who loves shopping and finding clothes that express hints of my personality, I think this can only be a good thing. I come from a university full of students who thrive off individuality. Faded denim jackets, patterned leggings, metallic leggings, chunky-knit jumpers, high-waisted denim shorts, crop tops, oversized tops, statement necklaces, shirts buttoned up to the collar, drainpipe jeans so skinny that (you’d think) they make their owners infertile- the list of edgy clothing deemed acceptable at the University of Leeds goes on. This couldn’t be further from the gospel according to Regina George. Pink, once a week? Please, love. I’ll wear what I want.
Walking around on campus at the University of South Carolina is a different story. I’m not being the fashion police here, but it doesn’t take a genius to notice that for a large majority of USC students, t-shirts are held in pretty high regard. The standard attire for classes is a baggy t-shirt, Nike shorts, or ‘norts,’ and sports trainers (also Nike, duh.) There are four main variations within these popular t-shirts. They are: sleeveless or sleeved, tie-dyed or plain, variations in color, and the logo or writing displayed on the front and back.
Given the way in which USC distributes free t-shirts, I’m not surprised everyone wears them. I’ve been here for seven weeks and have almost been given one free t-shirt a week. You can even sign up to a service called MyCarolina that gives you text alerts if free t-shirts are being distributed on campus. So far I’ve had two shirts from football games, a study abroad shirt, a shirt for my university dorm, a shirt just for tweeting a picture of our mascot, and I’m due another t-shirt this weekend for running a 5K. I’ve started to feel silly for even packing any clothes.
But it occurred to me recently that there’s something about this that makes me uncomfortable. Staggering around the running track yesterday I realized I could tell a lot more about people than if I was at home. The girl on the treadmill went to Hilton Head Island in 2010. The guy on the rowing machine is a member of Chi Psi and joined on bid day 2012. The girl on the cross-trainer participated in a hockey tournament in 2010, which raised $2000 for Breast Cancer Research. Despite the fact that fashion tends to be more monotonous over here, people have made it easier, not harder, to make a statement about their identity through their clothes.
This seems to be somewhat characteristic of American university life. When I arrived I was startled by the deadpan ways in which people stereotype sorority members. Categorizing people by their sorority allegiances is so normalized that you actually catch people saying, ‘I met a girl from such-and-such a sorority today- and she WASN’T a slut- how strange!’ So just as joining a sorority is a tool for self-identification, wearing a t-shirt that reduces you down to a couple of words and a logo seems to be, too.
Of course I’m guilty of wearing the t-shirts myself, it’s impossible not to here. I love my study abroad shirt and wear it loud and proud at the gym. There’s nothing wrong with showing pride that you’re part of a sports team or that you took part in a charity event. But what I’m skeptical about is the fact that it’s so normal to wear these baggy t-shirts on a daily basis that you stick out like a sore thumb for wearing anything else. International students have people coming up to them saying things like, ‘You’re kinda overdressed’, or ‘I’ve noticed you around campus’ because of what we wear. My greatest reluctance towards the t-shirt fad is that, like sororities and fraternities, it encourages people to categorize. It’s like putting people in separate boxes according to their interests. What’s worse is that it encourages people to push themselves away from those in ‘rival’ boxes.
Don’t get me wrong- I’m all for self-expression through clothes, and wearing printed t-shirts seems to be the way it’s done over here. But at what point did it become acceptable to wear your identity, to literally put it on in the morning and have it written across your chest? To me, fashion is creative and explorative: a derivation of my personality. But I won’t succumb to the T-shirt fad because my clothing choices aren’t the be-all and end-all of my identity; they’re just the symbolic exteriors.