For a college girl, the weekend is synonymous with a tight skirt, eyeliner and “Never-Again-Will-I-Wear-These” heels. There is a certain excitement in wondering what kind of night you’ll have based on the top you choose. However, it was this past weekend that I wondered: how much does what I wear affect my night out? My first few weekends of college have been filled with memories that I’m sure are the direct result of what I was wearing. So, despite other plans for my Friday night, I decided to make an experiment out of it. I decided to test the two extremes of the “weekend-outfit-spectrum.” For the first part of my night, I wore a conservative outfit of a cardigan (with the top buttoned), crew-neck tee, jeans, and moccasin slippers. All the rules of skimpy outfit-tude I had picked up over the past few weeks, I threw right out the window. For the second part of my night, I wore what my friends and I affectionately call “The Blue Dress,” a tight little number that I only bring out for special occasions. However, there were rules for my night out. Like any experiment, there were constants. I kept my hair and make-up the same. My outfit had to be the prime variable going through a process of change. Throughout the night, I observed how people looked at me, spoke to me, and whether or not I was allowed to get into parties. Also, how I felt on a personal level was an important thing to note. Here are my observations in both outfits.
“Rager” Cardigan?
I started out the night getting ready with my friends as I always do. Plunging necklines, tight dresses and fishnets (all of which were options for my friends) were scattered across the floor. Meanwhile, I lay out my cardigan, jeans and shirt. Within a minute-and-a-half, I was dressed in the outfit of someone about to hole up in the library, not of a girl about to embrace the party scene. Wandering out into the hallway, a male floor-mate of mine asked if we were going out. Upon saying we were, he scanned my outfit for a second and asked, “When?” It was clear I did not look like I was going out. Duly noted.
I stood around awkwardly as my friends got dressed. Cleavage and bare-legs were a common theme amongst the outfits. But as I stood there, I felt inadequately dressed. Unlike Friday nights prior to this one where I perceived myself to be at the same level of attractiveness, I suddenly felt very self-conscious in what I was wearing. The worst part was that I hadn’t even left my dorm.
We did finally make it out of our building. Pictures were taken of course, and I felt like hiding in the back rather than standing in the front. I did not feel like proudly showing off my conservative garb.
Walking out of the dorm, we passed a group of about 5 girls. Their eyes skimmed the skimpy outfits of my friends. However, it was my outfit, of jeans and cardigan that their eyes really fixated on. Suddenly I was aware of the difference between in-class-dress and weekend-dress. My outfit would not have gotten a second look on a weekday. But on a Friday night, it was clear what I was wearing was not the norm.
We came across a house party. The guys manning the door allowed me to get in. However, as was apparent among most guys we came across, my friends were clearly looked at as objects. Meanwhile, their gaze towards me sent off a judgmental vibe that made me feel uncomfortable and unwanted.
Within the party, I found an acquaintance I know from class. She asked me what I was wearing. I responded “My going out clothes.” Things got slightly awkward after that, so we split up.
On the dance floor, I felt like a pre-teen girl in middle school: Invisible and angst-ridden. I began to wonder if maybe it wasn’t just my outfit that was repelling guys from talking to me or asking me to dance. I started to feel even more self-conscious as the music blared around me and my friends danced with the enthusiasm I usually had at parties playing dub-step.
We left after 45 minutes. I was itching to change into my blue dress and receive the same attention my friends had been getting the whole night.
“The Blue Dress”
I changed in the bathroom of a dorm building. I left the bathroom and that is when my night completed a 180-degree change. I suddenly felt confident, up to the standards that college students across the campus have set for a girl when she goes out to parties. I exchanged my moccasin slippers for boots with a heel. I touched up my make-up. I felt ready.
We decided to walk back to the same house party we paid a visit to earlier. On our trek, I got the male attention my friends had received earlier. Now, I understand that girls, when going out, ignore the male gaze. However, the difference in reactions before I changed and after was dramatic. The male gaze went from non-existent to almost predator-like. Their stares were intense and so much more exaggerated for me since I had not experienced them earlier on.
We got back to the house party and I was able to easily get in. One guy manning the door even remarked, “Where were you earlier?” I resisted the urge to say, “Here, actually.” Instead I entered the party. The dub-step was still playing, so I embraced the opportunity to dance. It felt like the first time all night I could really relax and have fun. I didn’t really get why: all that had changed was my outfit. Nothing more.
One guy asked me to dance, however I declined his offer for the sake of the experiment. The fact that he did ask me to dance proved that the level of male attention for a girl in a scantily dressed outfit is far different from that of a girl wearing conservative clothing. This was predicted.
But on a personal level, I felt like I belonged at the party in this outfit, rather than out of place and unwelcome. My level of comfort was down, sure. But my level of fun was definitely the highest it had been all night. And it all had to do with my outfit change.
Conclusion:
I think that whether we want to admit it or not, there are social norms for how to act and dress when going out to parties on the weekend. Through this, I learned how it feels to be on completely opposite sides of the apparel spectrum. On the conservative side, it feels awkward to be dressed in such a way, like you don’t fit in with the party culture. Meanwhile, on the more risqué side, I felt like I belonged even though my physical comfort was not nearly the same. But I think that, ultimately, we are individuals who can make the most of anything we choose to put on. Did I get maliciously hurt or verbally abused when I was wearing the cardigan? No. Did I feel like I was missing out on the true college party experience? Maybe. However, as it goes, your life is what you make of it. The same can be said of your night out.