In the world of academia we refer to as "campus life," many things rank high on the collegiate totem pole: tuition, studies, books and lectures.
Then there are the other more frivolous ideas that aren't taken so seriously: the campus drama, the parties and so on.
Though there is one subject that many would categorize with the latter, in actuality, it deserves much more. It is how you give a first impression, how you show yourself to the world, even how you portray your attitude to professors or employers: fashion.
With so many student-focused ideas on how to dress for class (save the sweats for a lazy day), how to dress for job interviews (UGGs need not apply) or how to dress for any situation possible, we decided to take a look at some fashionable professors. Be they fashion-forward or couture-challenged, if you've noticed their style, we've noticed it too.
After asking around campus and receiving some suggestions, here is a look at a few of the more fashionable professors on Otterbein's campus.
When asked about their style, the professors each gave their own reasoning.
Norman Chaney said:
"My basic rule of dress when I come to the college is to wear a different tie every day. I have nearly 100 of them, many bought at Goodwill. The color of the tie dictates everything else."
Karen Steigman said:
"I always wear scarves. I think they give the pretense of looking put-together. I can't say that I have a favorite store, but I will say that I hate the mall, so I do a lot of shopping online."
Michael Levin said:
My Style
A student once remarked that I had a "classic" style. Until that point, I had not considered my sense style, which remains unchanged since I was an undergraduate.
I wear muted color slacks or pants depending on the occasion, and button down shirts. In the summertime, I concede the season by wearing a short sleeve, colored polo shirt when I am around the house.
Anyone who has had the misfortune of seeing me at the Rike or Clements would rightfully question my sense of style.
Why Those Clothes
As an undergraduate, I was fortunate to befriend a fellow student who worked at Latham's, a men's apparel store in Oklahoma City. I spent a couple of hours with him at the store as he showed me how to build a wardrobe and an outfit.
As a consequence, I started wearing braces, or suspenders, instead of a belt. I let the tie become the point of flair, or personal statement. The rest – the jacket, shirt, and pants – should not draw attention to me.
My body shape and size probably save me from adopting a more fashion forward look. A lot of clothes for today's man would hang poorly on my frame. I would appear rather silly.
At work, I dress for a place of business. Recently, I left campus to meet someone at Chase. While waiting in the lobby, I was undistinguishable from the other male employees.
On the other hand, when I met someone at Lane Bryant. I looked like a relic of a past fashion era.
My Fashion
My sense of fashion is guided by a well-worn cliché. The clothes make the man.
I wear a sport coat and tie at work because it sets a tone in the classroom and at the office. I do not make a distinction between the two because I am at work.
Depending on the time of day, and the day of the week, I am in different rooms. Regardless of whether I am teaching, researching, or performing service, I am still at a place of business. I should dress in an appropriate manner.
Plus, my undergraduate students should gain a sense of how they need to dress for the workplace while my graduate students should notice a consistency between the classroom (i.e, my workplace) and the office (i.e, their workplace).
Thought
I knew someone while in high school who attended a private school that required a uniform. When asked if he found the uniform requirement restrictive, he said it was the opposite. It was liberating.
He knew what he going to wear each day. The catch, was how to make the uniform distinctive without violating the stated and unstated rules about the dress code.
I feel that way about dressing for work. The tie is my personal statement. I wear a stripe tie when I want something quite or muted or a patterned tie if I want to draw attention. The shark tie is reserved for special occasions while the Martini tie is most likely to appear on a Friday. A few of my ties have significance or attachment.
At home, I take a similar approach. The clothes should not draw attention to the wearer. A friend offered that I look like a model for the LL Bean catalog. Considering it sells the same style of fashion since I was a kid, I took the offering as a compliment.
Anthony DeStefanis said:
My great grandparents were shepherds in Italy, so I'm partial toward wool. Otherwise, I try as much as I can not to dress like a typical male academic. That means avoiding the uniform of jeans and khakis that baby boom generation professors seem to prefer. I came of age during the 1980s and early ‘90s (a member of generation X) listening to punk rock, which taught me to look skeptically at the baby boomers. The late 1980s were full of corporate-sponsored anniversaries of (supposedly) important 1960s cultural events: the 20th anniversary of the summer of love (1987), the 20th anniversary of the release of Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts' Club Band (also 1987), and the 20th anniversary of Woodstock (1989), to name a few. Why, I wondered, were the baby boomers so gullible? Why, more specifically, did they fall so hard for these corporate music industry efforts to sell them their past on CD at much higher prices? The right-wing politics of the 1980s made this nostalgia even more grotesque. The boomers--who had become yuppies--seemed to be saying that they were no longer interested in political activism. Instead, they were going to roll a fatty and cue up their new, digitally re-mastered CD version of the White Album ("you say you want a revolution, well, you know . . ."). And why in the hell did baby boomers (and so many others) embrace the Grateful Dead's 1980s comeback? The Grateful Dead? Really? This is why I try as much as I can not to model myself on the boomers.
I avoid developing attachments to soulless corporate entities that are intent on making us all believe that we have a special relationship with them. I also avoid buying clothes that were made in sweatshop conditions by people who are younger than my students. It's hard, but it's possible, and I encourage you to do the same.
