On Princeton gear

Looking around at the people in my anthropology course, I saw that about 25 percent of the class was wearing "Princeton" clothes. These clothes included a variety of colors and shapes, ranging from the free T-shirts given at random events to those of several team sports, and, of course, to the traditional Princeton hooded sweatshirt. I'm sure that had I looked into my classmates' closets, I would have found some form of "Princeton" clothing in at least 90 percent of my sample size. College paraphernalia is one of the phenomena that surprised me the most in my discovery of American universities.

Why do so many students live and sleep in Princeton clothes? In the age of freedom of dress, why is there such success for this voluntary uniform? Effective U-Store marketing? The U-Store hardly has any. Students are freely doing their own marketing.

Is the presence of Princeton gear linked to the University's academic excellence? Is it pride stemming from being accepted to the number one school of the country that generates sales? I first assumed so. But then I traveled to New York City and saw how widespread the college paraphernalia phenomenon was. I also went to a smaller and less famous university, Ursinus, and the percentage of Ursinus sweatshirts being worn was just as high there. There must be more to it than prestige.

Next guess: Could the "Princeton" fashion be linked to sports? Are we simply proud of our varsity teams? One must notice that the "Princeton" trend is almost always sporty Princeton clothes. The psychologist Robert Cialdini demonstrated in 1976 that students were more likely to wear their university-affiliated apparel on the Monday following a victorious sports game. But we're not all athletes and wearing a Princeton sweatshirt as part of a pajama outfit will not help the football team or improve our performances at baseball games.

It is more likely that wearing a Princeton shirt means: "I'm proud of the community that shaped me." That is probably why it is more of an undergraduate than graduate phenomenon. There is indeed a family feeling floating around the Princeton gear. When my friend jogs in Central Park among T-shirts from other universities, alumni often stop her and ask her which residential college she is in. I personally wouldn't advise you to question people wearing Princeton gear quite like that though; you're likely to come across some tourist who bought the Princeton T-shirt in Taiwan.

When we travel beyond Nassau Street dressed in Princeton gear, we become ambassadors of the University. When we advertise the Princeton brand, people probably identify our looks and actions with the University. But that still doesn't answer the question as to why so many people wear Princeton paraphernalia on campus. We obviously know we're all students at Princeton. And it couldn't be because of the clothes' aesthetic! I believe that when we wear Princeton clothes, we are, consciously or not, celebrating ourselves and the entity we form together. This "patriotism of university" helps bridge the initial diversity that exists between the students. It makes students equal, just like a uniform does.

There is no equivalent mass-wearing of college paraphernalia in France or Germany. The best schools only produce school T-shirts rarely and only for specific events or competitions. Perhaps this is because in both countries, patriotism is not viewed as positively as it is here. In France for instance, the extreme right has taken the national flag as their defining symbol, so it would be considered odd to put a flag on your house — except during the World Cup of course! This strongly contrasts with the numerous flags at the Rockefeller Center in New York City.

The only problem I have with Princeton gear and more broadly university patriotism is that it undeniably widens the divide between different schools. When I participated in a model U.N. conference a couple weeks ago, a simple individual badge with the name of our school on it already created a gap between students. When I went to visit my friend at Ursinus, I wore my hooded Princeton sweatshirt (indeed, I also own one). I did not feel comfortable as people glanced at it. Lucky for me, I wasn't wearing the "What do Harvard and sh-t have in common?" Shirts!

Mark Twain once said, "Modesty died when clothes were born." It's a great thing that our Princeton sweatshirts help to bridge student diversity and form a closer community. Let our behaviour prove Twain wrong. Soleine Leprince, a visiting student, is a history and international and public affairs major from Paris, France. She may be reached at leprince@princeton.