The Devil Wears Patagonia

Author: Jordan Nassar

Fashion is just like anything else. Those who are into it are into it - and those who are not just don't care. We are too often thrown off by the combination two truths: that fashion deals with clothes, and that we all wear clothes. We end up thinking that because we all wear clothes, we all care about clothes. But alas, I am today stating that fashion is not to be inflicted on those without interest. I'd venture to say that one feels better when one looks better - and if you disagree, then I'd venture to assume that you're wearing sweatpants right now. But fair is fair.

Thinking about this week's column, I was overcome by a sense of defeat. I continually receive mixed reviews. Those comfortable in their sweats and sneaks scoff, busy with things deemed more important. Those fashionable are always there to support me, my choir for the preaching.

Sitting down to write this, I took a deep breath and felt similar to a dentist cozying up to pull some teeth.

Hear me out. I'm giving fashion advice, so stop acting like I threaten your free will. I write this column to help you. I was asked to do so as I work in fashion in both New York and Tokyo.

This column was going to be useful, bringing Middlebury a bit more up-to-speed about what's going on outside the bubble, and at the same time enjoyable, maybe even getting a chuckle or two.

However, I don't care anymore. You don't want my fashion - and I don't want your complaints (on which I blame my obviously foul mood). To those of you that do care, an apology is in order, as I don't even have time to get to actual fashion because I am too busy explaining, to an overwhelmingly resistant audience, taboos that in any metropolitan area fall under the same common sense as looking both ways before crossing the street.

Yet I stupidly hold on to a shred of hope. Thus, allow me one last, dying attempt to cover those basics (some of which may be excused only when exercising). No flip flops. No running shoes (including New Balances, as they have unsightly foam soles with sufficient traction). No denim jacket with jeans. No sweat material. No polar fleece. No black and brown or black and navy together (too advanced if this list is necessary). No overly baggy jeans, and girls, no too-tight pants that produce a "tire." No caps to cover unwashed hair. And finally, jackets are, in fact, part of your outfit, and must make sense both in terms of color and nature - the same goes for bags (a dress or collared shirt with a Northface or LL Bean backpack is unacceptable).

The above may be beyond you, seemingly unreasonable and impossible. If so, then it is thanks to you that I have realized that some things never change - and at Middlebury, it's the general love of comfort, mixed with the hubristic belief that anyone worth dating would overlook your year-round flip-flop-and-messy-bun look for intellectual connection and companionship. You're wrong, and you don't look cute, but it's not my problem - and the realization of just that has freed me of my plight.

That being said, style 101 comes to an end. I will start in on fashion's finer points in the next installment of The Devil Wears Patagonia.