Sartorially minded at University

University is a time for exploration of our values, our gag reflexes after a night out as well as a time to wear trackie pants to class and be accepted for it.

At least this is the stereotype that I have hard but upon coming to the school meant for big kids but are actually borderline alcoholics already; it could not be further from the truth.

The fashion styles coming through uni are about as varied as a pack of zebras. Since there is no official uniform it seems there is an unspoken one, for the ladies at least. The men of uni walk around in an outfit they’ve worn days ago... the same act would for a girl would be like social suicide.

But I digress.

While boys use backpacks, the fashionably chic and often dim-witted use handbag- from guess to blue bird it’s like a walking market place.

In addition there seems to be a trend (more like disillusionment) those tights or leggings are pants. And the worst part? Someone must have done some propaganda here because everyone is wearing them. EVERYONE! Honey, tights are not one size fits all, they aren’t hats, they don’t cover, they reveal.

And if I wanted to see an arse crack or unflattering figures held in the seams bursting away I’d go back to a fashionably challenged country town.

And what about those crop-tops... at least the curvier females have the intelligence to not wear them, for the rest of you... I shake my head. You pay 20 bucks for half a shirt, what is this? Didn’t your mother ever tell you to get your money’s value, or to do the maths?

I walk onto campus and while there are other, alternative and classy styles they are a 

minority.... much like the teetotallers around here, but the general consensus is to show skin and wear tight clothing with a pretty handbag.

The age of Paris Hilton is well and truly upon us... hold on tight.