What I Learned This Week
My "stupid shirt" isn't all that stupid
By: Joanna Arcieri
Issue date: 4/24/08 Section: Features
I have one Mount Holyoke t-shirt that is more special than any other piece of college merch I could ever purchase from the campus store.
On the surface, this shirt doesn't seem like anything spectacular. It's a really depressing shade of gray with faded blue letters that look like they were stenciled on by a fifth-grader. Every time I?wear it, I realize how incredibly unflattering it is. The shirt has absolutely no shape; it just hangs off my body and makes me look like a giant box. And it is so short that I'm constantly pulling it down to cover my abdomen-however, doing so only exposes my lower back.
But I love this shirt more than any other piece of clothing I own. You see, it belonged to my mom, a Mount Holyoke alumna. It is probably more than 35 years old and she gave it to me the day I got into Mount Holyoke.
My decision to attend Mount Holyoke was an obvious one. When I?was ten years old, my mother brought me to her 25th reunion and I loved it so much I begged to go to the next one. Her only requirement the second time around was that I go on a campus tour. Four years later, here I am.
Not everyone, especially my older sisters, was on board with going to Mom's school. One told me, "At least it's the best school you'll get into." The other one sneered and said, "Are you sure you want to do that? Don't you want to be different from Mom?"
But what they hate more than anything is my "stupid shirt." They think its hideous and that I should replace it with something newer, something better and something that separates me from my mother.
As condescending as my sisters can be, I've found that it's actually quite easy to ignore them. Especially since one doesn't return my phone calls and the other lives in Haiti with limited telephone and internet access. All kidding aside, what my sisters are just jealous of, or perhaps don't understand, is the relationship I have with my mom.
Mount Holyoke has given me something I can share with her that they can't, and that's probably why they hate my "stupid shirt."
On the surface, this shirt doesn't seem like anything spectacular. It's a really depressing shade of gray with faded blue letters that look like they were stenciled on by a fifth-grader. Every time I?wear it, I realize how incredibly unflattering it is. The shirt has absolutely no shape; it just hangs off my body and makes me look like a giant box. And it is so short that I'm constantly pulling it down to cover my abdomen-however, doing so only exposes my lower back.
But I love this shirt more than any other piece of clothing I own. You see, it belonged to my mom, a Mount Holyoke alumna. It is probably more than 35 years old and she gave it to me the day I got into Mount Holyoke.
My decision to attend Mount Holyoke was an obvious one. When I?was ten years old, my mother brought me to her 25th reunion and I loved it so much I begged to go to the next one. Her only requirement the second time around was that I go on a campus tour. Four years later, here I am.
Not everyone, especially my older sisters, was on board with going to Mom's school. One told me, "At least it's the best school you'll get into." The other one sneered and said, "Are you sure you want to do that? Don't you want to be different from Mom?"
But what they hate more than anything is my "stupid shirt." They think its hideous and that I should replace it with something newer, something better and something that separates me from my mother.
As condescending as my sisters can be, I've found that it's actually quite easy to ignore them. Especially since one doesn't return my phone calls and the other lives in Haiti with limited telephone and internet access. All kidding aside, what my sisters are just jealous of, or perhaps don't understand, is the relationship I have with my mom.
Mount Holyoke has given me something I can share with her that they can't, and that's probably why they hate my "stupid shirt."