The Bowdoin Orient

I have a style-themed Ivies drinking game for you.

Drink every time you see someone wearing: jorts, Ray-Bans, Croakies, anything neon, a romper, a sundress, flash tats, a bro tank, a douchey visor, a backwards hat, Chubbies, anything with an American flag, a bandana, multiple pairs of cheap sunglasses on one head, a vintage flannel shirt tied around a waist, an ironic T-shirt, tie-dye, or a beer helmet. Just kidding. Don’t play this game. You will die.

Here’s a better Ivies drinking game. It’s like Where’s Waldo meets the Fashion Police meets stumbling around a field like Amy Winehouse on an average Tuesday (R.I.P., Amy. I’m still not over it). 

Drink if you see any of these things: a suit, a coat of armor, a full length tutu, a boa, a boa constrictor á la Britney circa 2001, pasties á la Lil Kim circa 1999, anything Madonna in her current pantless incarnation would wear, assless chaps, or Director of Safety and Security Randy Nichols wearing something colorful. These are things I have never seen at Ivies. Any and all of them would be thrilling. So, actually, don’t take a drink if you see one. Instead, call me immediately and I’ll buy you a bottle of Veuve.

That’s enough about drinking games. You’ll get enough of that in the next week. What you won’t get are some glorious style rules to make your Ivies your most shocking yet. So here, without further ado, collected over many years and despite many lost brain cells, are my Ivies 2015 Rules:

1. Don’t wear anything you’re not prepared to lose.

2. Don’t wear anything that isn’t easy to take off and put back on. (Hey, you never know what’s in store under the bleachers.)

3. Don’t wear anything that won’t give a little as you bloat. (Three to six days of constant drinking does spectacular things to the human body.)

4. Don’t wear anything that will be uncomfortable to spontaneously and uncontrollably nap in.

5. Don’t wear anything you’re not prepared to have contaminated by any of the following: cheap beer, cheaper boxed wine, champagne showers, impossibly sticky vodka mixed drinks in “inconspicuous” water bottles, impossibly pungent whiskey in “inconspicuous” flasks, unseemly amounts of Malibu and Kalhua and fruit punch, inexplicable puddles of mud, extra-staining grass, ketchup, mustard, relish, ice cream, pizza grease, a stray piece of chicken, chili dog drippings, body paint, cigarette smoke, cigarette burns, trace amounts of marijuana, tracer amounts of coke, traciest amounts of purple drank, blood, sweat, tears, vomit, urine, feces, semen, truffle butter, and that  horrifying fluid inside  of glow sticks.

6. Don’t wear anything you don’t want to see in photographs for years to come. 

7. Don’t wear anything you’d be embarrassed to be transported in. 

8. Don’t wear anything you’d be embarrassed to be medevac-ed in.

9. Don’t wear anything you’d be embarrassed to die in. 

10. Don’t wear comfortable shoes: The primary dilemma of my life is deciding whether to wear comfortable shoes. I have not yet been able to bring myself to. This is because they are uniformly ugly. My feet always hurt. 

11. Don’t wear Crocs. This is an addendum to the above because a Croc enthusiast I know tells me that Crocs are more than just a comfortable shoe, but in fact a lifesaving device: It is apparently possible to eat Crocs in a pinch. I have not confirmed this as I am a fashion columnist and not a food columnist, and I cannot bear to look it up. Do not wear Crocs, do not eat your Crocs. Just no.

12. Don’t wear wool. I just don’t think it’s a good idea. 

13. Don’t wear anything truly offensive, like a swastika or a full length white hood with eye holes and a pointy top.

14. Don’t wear anything explosive, like a suicide vest.

15. Don’t wear anything flammable.

16. Don’t wear anything microwavable.

17. Don’t wear anything orange.

18. Don’t wear anything flannel. Flannel is for winter. I cannot say this enough. This is a celebration of spring. I’ve have seen every variation of every flannel shirt available for sale on this planet during the past six months. I seriously do not care if lumberjacks and those assholes who make pickles and beeswax candles in Brooklyn think they are appropriate for this season. Please put away your flannel.  19. Don’t wear ruby slippers. Dorothy needs them to get home to Kansas.

20. Don’t wear a certain blue dress with a conspicuous stain. Monica needs it for her TED Talk. 

21. Don’t wear a pantsuit. Hillary needs it, you guys! She has to wear a different one every day for the next 16 months!

22. Don’t wear a cape. No capes. “The Incredibles” taught me that. 

23. Don’t dress up like a zombie. It’ll be redundant. See above note on the transformational effects of heavy drinking.

24. Don’t wear a backpack. YUCK. What do you think this is? A school? 

25. Don’t wear a parasol. Or carry one. Or own one. There’s a better way to protect yourself from the sun. It’s called sunscreen. Unlike a parasol, it doesn’t make you look like an insane person.

26. Don’t wear anything from Lululemon. Lulu is a huge bitch and we’re in such a fight. But really, no athletic wear. And if you say the word “athleisure” to me, I will send you to President Barry Mills’ office for foul language.

27. Don’t wear anything from Dolce and Gabbana. They’re weirdly and stupidly homophobic. Seriously, they just made Elton John’s enemies list. And if you were planning on wearing Dolce and Gabbana to a filthy concert weekend, please redirect some of your disposable income my way.

28. Don’t wear a strap-on. Or maybe do. It’s up to you, but just be aware it's maybe bordering on poor taste.

29. Don’t wear anything even remotely appropriate for Karen Mills’ etiquette dinner.

30. Don’t wear anything your grandmother would approve of.

31. Don’t wear anything Lena Dunham would approve of.

32. Don’t wear anything.