Thursday August 30, 2001 |

Incredibly, the temperature continues to exasperate students day after day, and that means being nasty and sticky, and finding the right gear to sport to class. While less does mean being cooler, it could be at the expense of having any friends. I'm here to tell you - either earn it or just don't bare it.

Afflicting Tucson, like every college town, is a horrid disease: fashionus suckius maximus. Tight pants on fat asses, low-cut shirts on hefty boosted mammary glands and muscle shirts on skinny punks are just a few of the fashion faux pas I have been privy to this semester thus far. Please, for the sake of sparing the campus a communal gag reflex, put something else on.

There are those bods that are simply slammin' in physical nature. Good for them. However, because some people can go flash their daisy dukes or Gold's Gym gear doesn't mean that everyone should cram their ghetto booties into the latest hoochie wear.

Sorority girls, listen up. Just because sister so-and-so just loves her new black-ass pants - "for realz" - does not necessitate a chapter-wide shopping spree to match up with her for the next date dash, nevertheless class. People, when you bust out your fly party garb for school; you look stoopid. Not stupid, but worse. Stoopid. It's the difference between stinky and stanky. It's REALLY bad.

Speaking of stanky, I know that getting up late for class and skipping a shower can garner you another 15 minutes of oh-so-precious sleep, but at least change your shirt, guys. Reeking is not attractive. In fact, people don't want to sit by stinkies. Don't be a stinky. Girls like it when guys don't smell of B.O. and even more when there's some deodorant or even, dare I say, daily refresher splashed on.

On the recycling bit - used clothes are indeed chic and stylish. It's comfortable for school and chillin', but for the love of all that is good, something that has been torn to crap in the factory on purpose and sold at a designer store makes you a victim. You're getting ripped off at $15, $30 and even $100 for gear you could snag at any of a number of area used-clothing stores. Style is ultimately self-created, not the result of worldwide marketing campaigns.

Now for the big crunch on the ladies - tube tops are awful. Fat girls in tube tops should be illegal. No matter what, they are NEVER appropriate for school. When the horrid fudge ruffles peek out from over the armpits and back, mirrors shatter, children scream, and adult men grow faint. It's disgusting. Trust me, everyone is thinking the same thing. Just give them to someone else.

Guys, you're not getting off without a reaming. Muscle-Tees are for guys with muscles. The weasel-looking, semi-big chest and arms built with toothpick legs is embarrassing. Gain some balance in your development. It won't take that long, and your top can grow bigger. No matter what girls say, muscles push the booty button big time. Just don't have it look funny, and until it's a complete package, put some clothes on.

Sadly, there are those guys that feel that their big arms (a product of just being fat all over) merit muscle shirts. Not a chance Bubba. Holding records at Golden Corral and Sizzler won't make your muscles bigger. Those six keg stands you pulled last weekend? Well, you can see every case hanging further and further over your belt. Being fat is not a bad thing, it's just material that shouldn't be bared to the world.

My last word goes to the boys from SoCal. Hats are great. When you're hair isn't managed, then you can just throw one on, no prob. However, when the hat is backwards and that Cal Bear paw is closer to your nose than your eyebrows, you look like Neanderthals. Such a style can, in time, prevent your eyebrow hairs from growing at all. That would be worse than tube-top overflow.

I may not be Calvin Klein or Armani or Mr. Rossi, but these are campus-wide complaints. Everybody hates this stuff, but maybe some people are just in denial or simply didn't know. I understand. I used to have this ugly pair of Vans that I wore EVERYWHERE, but a buddy let me know they were heinous, and I wised up with a new pair of kicks. Just don't use yours to kick me in mine. Peace.