My social experiment of dressing as a slut has produced mixed results after two days of class attendance. Normally I won't have classes on Mondays and Fridays, but one class that meets only intermittently met yesterday. Another lab course, in which students put in four hours per week at their own convenience anytime the lab is open, will meet on this Friday for an orientation. Two of the other three classes met today. I'll have just one class on Wednesdays, and I'll try to outdo myself in terms of the trampy look.
In yesterday's class, three girls (out of roughly twenty) were dressed similarly to me in style. One girl's attire was noticeably skankier than that of anyone else in the class. I considered stopping her after class and asking her where she purchased her clothing, but thought better of it because I'm not spending any more of my hard-earned cash on this experiment of sorts. I've had the professor of Monday's course before, and he knew me well enough to call me by name on the rare occasions when our paths crossed on campus. When he called out my name and I said "Here!" and raised my hand, he did a bit of a double-take, then just smiled. The next time the course meets, my experiment will have reached its completion, so I assume he'll wonder what the hell I was thinking. If he asks, I'll tell him. If not, I'll say nothing. Four guys in that class hit on me. All were of the type that would have presumed to have had so little in common with me that neither I nor any of them would have struck up a conversation had we been next to one another in line for ice cream or to have an "add a class" form signed.
In today's classes, I was not nearly so impressive. In the earlier class, I was out-skanked by at least one-third of the class. In the second class, I was probably the fifth-sluttiest in terms of attire out of maybe eighteen, but considering how hard I had worked at white-trashing my overall look (after such a poor showing in the early class, I went back to my dorm room and added a few de-classifying touches), fifth out of seventeeen really wasn't all that impressive. I was humbled by my poor showing, overall.
I have just one course tomorrow, which is a music course (stringed instruments, as in violin, viola, cello, string bass -- not guitar) and my mother knows the professor. I could consider that and tone it down a bit, but that would be a coward's way out. If this professor has the gall to tell my mother that her daughter dresses like a typical streetwalker, so be it. Dressing more moderately on the outside chance that a parent could find out would destroy both the reliability and validity of my study. There's an outside chance I could run into either of my parents on campus, anyway. It's a chance I'm willing to take. What can they do about it, anyway? My dorm room and tuition are paid for this year, and the money is in the bank for next year, and none of the money came from my parents. The car (which did come from them) title is in my name. They would be more puzzled than angry, anyway.
The experiment is only going to last for two weeks, except that I plan to pick another random week in May and do something odd in terms of clothing and makeup, although I'm not certain the slut look is what I'll go for then. My look at that time may be more along the goth-emo style. If you ever watch Parks and Recreation, you may have seen April's sister Natalie Ludgate. She's not on all that often, actually, but if you caught the episode with April and Andy's wedding, she was on that one. Anyway, I think her basic style will be what I will attempt to recreate.
It will be interesting to see the reaction, if any, that the professors and my classmates display when I return to normal, dull Alexis. While normally most of the people with whom I come into contact at the university neither notice nor care about my accoutrements, the change in my normal style to my present attire and them back again is so drastic that it would be difficult to overlook. I'm curious to see if I will be treated differently (mainly if I'm ignored less as the slutty Alexis than I am as the mousy Alexis) either with the slutty look or with the return to my standard attire. I'm also curious to see if anyone actually says anything about it to me. I don't care much one way or another. I'll let you know how the rest of the first two weeks goes.
My required course attendance time is down from last quarter. My workload is far from insignificant, but it pales in comparison to lat quarter, which is a good thing. I had begun to mutter strange formulae or make odd comments about pygmies and regional literature in my sleep. My mom heard me hollering obscenities at Rhett Butler one night in my sleep. One should only spend so many hours torturing oneself over matters such as platykurtotic tendencies (I think my brother has them, incidentally) or even regional literature. I'll describe my courses and professors once each course has met for at least one session.
April seems to me to be a lot like a kidney stone, or, if you prefer, a urinary calculus. Though at just thirty days in length, it seems to take forever to pass. I'm hoping that April of 2013 is an exception to this unwritten rule.
In yesterday's class, three girls (out of roughly twenty) were dressed similarly to me in style. One girl's attire was noticeably skankier than that of anyone else in the class. I considered stopping her after class and asking her where she purchased her clothing, but thought better of it because I'm not spending any more of my hard-earned cash on this experiment of sorts. I've had the professor of Monday's course before, and he knew me well enough to call me by name on the rare occasions when our paths crossed on campus. When he called out my name and I said "Here!" and raised my hand, he did a bit of a double-take, then just smiled. The next time the course meets, my experiment will have reached its completion, so I assume he'll wonder what the hell I was thinking. If he asks, I'll tell him. If not, I'll say nothing. Four guys in that class hit on me. All were of the type that would have presumed to have had so little in common with me that neither I nor any of them would have struck up a conversation had we been next to one another in line for ice cream or to have an "add a class" form signed.
In today's classes, I was not nearly so impressive. In the earlier class, I was out-skanked by at least one-third of the class. In the second class, I was probably the fifth-sluttiest in terms of attire out of maybe eighteen, but considering how hard I had worked at white-trashing my overall look (after such a poor showing in the early class, I went back to my dorm room and added a few de-classifying touches), fifth out of seventeeen really wasn't all that impressive. I was humbled by my poor showing, overall.
I have just one course tomorrow, which is a music course (stringed instruments, as in violin, viola, cello, string bass -- not guitar) and my mother knows the professor. I could consider that and tone it down a bit, but that would be a coward's way out. If this professor has the gall to tell my mother that her daughter dresses like a typical streetwalker, so be it. Dressing more moderately on the outside chance that a parent could find out would destroy both the reliability and validity of my study. There's an outside chance I could run into either of my parents on campus, anyway. It's a chance I'm willing to take. What can they do about it, anyway? My dorm room and tuition are paid for this year, and the money is in the bank for next year, and none of the money came from my parents. The car (which did come from them) title is in my name. They would be more puzzled than angry, anyway.
The experiment is only going to last for two weeks, except that I plan to pick another random week in May and do something odd in terms of clothing and makeup, although I'm not certain the slut look is what I'll go for then. My look at that time may be more along the goth-emo style. If you ever watch Parks and Recreation, you may have seen April's sister Natalie Ludgate. She's not on all that often, actually, but if you caught the episode with April and Andy's wedding, she was on that one. Anyway, I think her basic style will be what I will attempt to recreate.
It will be interesting to see the reaction, if any, that the professors and my classmates display when I return to normal, dull Alexis. While normally most of the people with whom I come into contact at the university neither notice nor care about my accoutrements, the change in my normal style to my present attire and them back again is so drastic that it would be difficult to overlook. I'm curious to see if I will be treated differently (mainly if I'm ignored less as the slutty Alexis than I am as the mousy Alexis) either with the slutty look or with the return to my standard attire. I'm also curious to see if anyone actually says anything about it to me. I don't care much one way or another. I'll let you know how the rest of the first two weeks goes.
My required course attendance time is down from last quarter. My workload is far from insignificant, but it pales in comparison to lat quarter, which is a good thing. I had begun to mutter strange formulae or make odd comments about pygmies and regional literature in my sleep. My mom heard me hollering obscenities at Rhett Butler one night in my sleep. One should only spend so many hours torturing oneself over matters such as platykurtotic tendencies (I think my brother has them, incidentally) or even regional literature. I'll describe my courses and professors once each course has met for at least one session.
April seems to me to be a lot like a kidney stone, or, if you prefer, a urinary calculus. Though at just thirty days in length, it seems to take forever to pass. I'm hoping that April of 2013 is an exception to this unwritten rule.
This is awesome. Love it.
ReplyDeleteI look forward to April passing too... because in May, I will be in Italy and Greece!
ReplyDelete