It wasn’t long after I met my Cornell prince charming when he called and asked me to accompany him to his fraternity’s spring semester Date Night. My first instinct: what on Earth am I supposed to wear? Of course, instead of keeping the thought to myself, I blurted it into the phone.
Though my date is quite well dressed for a college guy, he was somewhat clueless when describing women’s attire. Guys only have a few different looks: gym clothes, casual wear, semi-formal, and formal. Translation: sweats, jeans, polo and khakis, suit. Girls have, well, a million. What I gathered from his attempt to describe the female dress code was “fancy, but not prom dresses.” So… cocktail dress? Semi-formal dress? Show off my bod or keep it clean and classy? Are heels too much? I think I was scanning my closet before I even got off the phone with him. I had an instant wardrobe panic.
I ended up going with a foolproof, one-shouldered LBD that my girlfriend lent me for the night. It wasn’t until I was dressed, ready to be picked up that I actually wondered what to expect at the event.
The night started with a cocktail hour (mingling is a lot harder when you don’t know anyone but your date—luckily, mine was a complete gentleman and introduced me to everyone). After about an hour we made our way to dinner at a Collegetown sushi hotspot, where we had a room reserved for the dozens of buzzing couples. As a famished sushi lover with a cute boy by my side, I couldn’t have been happier. After my first sake-bomb, a couple of tuna rolls, and a whole lot of flirting, we all headed back to the fraternity’s house for the party. Everyone was pretty beat from the early start, so after a few games and dancing songs, the couples went their separate ways.
I had survived my first Greek social events and had an absolute blast. I thanked the fashion gods that my date loved my outfit, and promised not to ask much of them for a while (until the frat’s formal, of course, but that’s another story).