T-shirts proclaim school devotion, unite student body
Jacqueline Browder
Assistant Scene Editor
Notre Dame and Saint Mary's students seem to have a love affair with the 100% cotton T-shirt. We wear them everywhere, using them as a status symbol, telling the world who we are and where we've been. This isn't a fleeting or momentary obsession.
At the beginning of every school year we go in droves to the bookstore to purchase an overpriced symbol of unity, commonly known as "The Shirt." We wear shirts bearing the image and logo of our great university on and off campus, and never tire of them. We know who we are and are proud of it.
But it's not only Notre Dame shirts we desire. We wear shirts announcing our hometowns, states, and even our high school mascots — anything we want to exhibit to the world. We use T-shirts as a way to express our interests and activities, what sports we play or like to watch, the clubs we've joined, and in support of our respective classes, even our majors.
And all-hail to the annual CBLD shirt. Their marketing department should be awarded a gold medal of some sort. Do you really think that so many students would even have a long distance calling plan had it not been for the oh-so-attainable free tee waiting for you after you've signed your life away on the dotted line? I don't. I know I'm in it for the shirt.
It's an epidemic. We love the idea of being associated with something so easily. Want people to know that you love Dave Matthews? Show up to class in a T-shirt bearing the name of his latest live album. New York Yankees fan? Take a run around the lakes in your 2000 World Series Champions T-shirt. Think Key West Florida is the greatest place on earth? You get the idea. It's that simple.
And then there's the ever-important dance T-shirt. I'll be quite honest. Obtaining and wearing a shirt bearing the name of a dorm of the opposite sex is a small yet important victory for any student. We love them. We wear them with pride to Rolf's and the dining halls, even to class.
I'll admit it. When a dance date shows up at my door to pick me up with a T-shirt in one hand and a couple of flowers in the other (this, by the way, is an ideal) I'm elated. When the T-shirt is missing, there's always a slight twinge of disappointment (although, it's something that I get over as quickly as you can say CBLD).
And, of course, who can forget the infamous, door-to-door bootleg T-shirt? These are the shirts that are a little dangerous, rather catchy and almost always humorous. Students make a fortune off of them, selling shirts with the eloquent "Michigan Sucks" logo and the always amusing encouragement to "Drink Like A Champion Today," selling them to anyone with a few extra dollars lying around. (If they could find a way to Flex them, the possibilities could be endless.)
I could go on and on. Notre Dame and Saint Mary's students love T-shirts. It's a right of passage to buy "The Shirt" and any other shirt that comes our way. These shirts serve an important purpose for us, proclaiming proudly — and cheaply —who we are and what we do with our free time. As long as people are willing to print them, we'll buy them, love them and wear them with pride.
The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.
All Scene Stories for Wednesday, November 1, 2000
