“Stop Trying So Hard”

The following is a burriful rage by an elder Fraternity Brother and Senior. I can add more to the topic later, but this deserves it’s own post and sums up everything I agree with. Main takeaway: The key to keeping college debauchery classy is to not look like a damn poster child for Douchebags Anonymous. Keep your clothing tasteful and let your personality do the frattin’. That means no neon green Chubbies

with a pink Vineyard Vines OCBD and madras Southern Proper bowtie just to walk in late to your English 111 class please.

So listen to your great grand-Big my young fratdaddies and heed his caution. Be modest with your greek membership attire. And one GTH item at a time fellas…**

“Dear JIs,

Congratulations again on your initiation. You’re not the miserable little skid marks on the underwear of society that you were last semester, and that’s something to be proud of. We now have a whole new pledge class of skid marks that you get to help haze. Now, with those pleasantries out of the way, there’s a serious conversation we need to have about the way you dress. In short, if you tried any harder, you’d pull a muscle.

Dressing “fratty” is part of being in a fraternity. I get that. At the same time, there’s a difference between dressing fratty and dressing like a TFM stereotype jizzed out your wardrobe. Was your father too busy doing meth under a bridge while you were growing up to teach you common sense? Regardless, you all look like clowns, and you’re responsible for the direction our fraternity is headed in after I’m gone, so it’s time someone taught you a thing or two about taste.

First of all, you don’t need fifteen different logos on to prove that you really are in a fraternity. Pairing Southern Tide croakies with your Costa sunglasses, Southern Proper visor, Brooks Brothers oxford, and Polo chinos is going way, way, way overboard. “More is better,” is a great approach to alcohol consumption, but it doesn’t work with brands. I know you’re proud that you finally replaced your high school wardrobe of Hollister polos and cargo shorts with brands that are “totally a TFM, brah,” but give me a break. You look like a schizophrenic frat clown now. Stop.

Secondly, just because someone starts a company that makes Southern-style apparel doesn’t mean you need to immediately run out and buy eight of their shirts. Your new General Lee’s Old Cotton Over Under Proper Bourbon Marsh shirt is probably nice, but I really don’t care to hear about it. No one else has the same one for a reason. Trying to know about things before other people know about them is for hipsters, and I don’t associate with hipsters. If I had my way, every hipster in these great United States would be rounded up and shot in the street. I have to deal with enough of them as it is when I go downtown. Then again, those might be homeless people. I have a hard time telling the difference.

And enough with the bow ties. There are plenty of occasions where bow ties are completely appropriate, such as weddings and semi-formal. If you want to wear a bow tie to those, be my guest. In fact, I’ll probably have one on, too. I actually love bow ties. There’s just no reason for you to be wearing them to class and out to the bars on a Tuesday night. If I see one more try-hard walk into class with a pre-tied bow tie on, I’m going to find a nun and punch her right in the teeth. That’s how stupid you look. I’d rather go to hell than have to look at you.

Finally, as much as I love seersucker, you’ve got to resist the urge to get a seersucker version of everything imaginable, and you’ve got to wait until Easter to wear it. If you were still a pledge, I’d just take your seersucker croakies, your seersucker wallet, your seersucker watch band, and your new pocket-tee with a seersucker pocket and make you watch me while I burn them. Unfortunately, our officers say I’m not supposed to destroy the things you love anymore.

Oh hell, it’s my fifth year. What are they going to do, not let me come back next semester? I’m getting my lighter.

-Fifth Year Senior”

**Except for cases of irony. It’s accepted to look like a ridiculous “schizophrenic frat clown” at certain social functions, such as peanut gallery sporting events (ex. The Carolina Cup) and Country Club-esque costume parties making fun at themselves (Dress like a UVA for a Day). So the title photo is an example of what not to wear unless you’re at a greek gathering horse race and below the age of 22.