Don't wear white past Labor Day. It's an old adage of American style. In fact, I've been alerted many times that my assortment of heinously bright clothing comes close to violating the rule. Once the middle of September rolls around and the colors are starting to explode from leaves and fall from trees, people stuff those same bright colors into the back of the closet, not to return until spring?which, in the Bowdoin world, means right around graduation.
A search of "white past Labor Day" in Google yields a few practical reasons for the ban. In regions that exhibit four true seasons (like Brunswick, Maine), lighter colored clothing shows stain more easily, making it ill-suited for the mud and salt that may accompany the fall and winter months. Also, perhaps because of the power of the ban, many lighter-colored articles of clothing are summer weight (made of thinner material designed for breathability, not nearly insulated enough for subzero weather). This foul-weather argument is a valid point against light-colored clothing at Bowdoin, especially in the face of the constant rain and snowstorms soon to befall us.
What happens with the onset of bad weather, however, is tragic, at least from an individualistic/stylistic point of view. Students around campus seem to see the meteorological foulness as reason to dress down and solely don sweatpants, sweatshirt and sneakers?clothing they don't care about. Essentially, there is nothing wrong with this. If it is within the realm of how a particular person expresses their clothing style, then it is representative of that person's style. But dressing as such is not necessarily just dressing down, but may be dressing out of a one's particular style. If the weather serves to alter the style of a man who would have ordinarily worn a polo, a pair of chinos, and boat shoes, then the weather has drastically hindered his individuality. By wearing a sweatshirt, he becomes visually imperceptible from the person that always wears a sweatshirt, and though image is not everything, it (fortunately or unfortunately) accounts for a significant portion of how a person is perceived. Difference should be celebrated, but during Bowdoin's fall and winter, it is sometimes thwarted.
Weather should not prohibit freedom of expression, and those practical boundaries weather presents are not as hard and fast as they seem. Don't let the weather get you down. In terms of practicality, single articles of thicker clothing (like a sweatshirt) absorb and retain more moisture than their thinner counterparts. Layering thinner articles of clothing achieves the same warmth, and also gives the wearer the ability to shed the outer article of clothing in question if it becomes uncomfortably soaked. Nicer shoes?those leather boat shoes in question?often offer greater puddle protection than the breathable fabric of a sneaker. Concerned about the leather? Weatherproofing sprays offer a great degree of protection. (As they are currently en vogue, it's worth mentioning that high rubber wellies also offer a great degree of protection for women looking to keep dry feet).
Now comes the fun part: color. To me, this aspect is the most important. On an already dour day, why pick a dour color? Sure, there are concerns of staining, but mud and road salt don't come out of a pair of jeans any more easily than it would a pair of khakis. Clothing should not only serve to make its wearer distinguishable from others, but should also comfortably shelter the wearer from his environment. So don't put away the brights quite yet, because darker colors can't do that on a gloomy day.
If you begin wearing bright colors, comments such as, "You look like spring," or "You remind me of Easter," will emerge. But freed from the dearth of color under the storm cloud, one can once again remember the green of spring and the pastel-striped Easter until we are delivered out of the storm. Isn't that what we all want on a rainy day?