What (not) to wear

Living with Sarah has given me a lot to think about.

In my wardrobe, that is.

Before I leave the house, I go to the mirror by the door and check to make sure that I'm dressed exactly for the activity I'll be doing, or day I'll be having. For instance, for school, do I have the "pretentious but genuinely eager to learn" look for James Rutherford Hume's Ancient Greek Religion class, that at the same time presents itself as "stylish, scholarly, and sarcastic" for Frank Towers' American History, and at the end of the day will get me through biology with something that says "Not a first year or going to med school; I'm only here for the David Attenborough clips"? It's a tough call.

I didn't always give my outfits this much thought, but after Sarah's appointment with Jeremy-from-the-gym, where she sported the "I'm prepared to go to your gym but I'm not paying anything more than $50/mo" look and I told her the classy fall accessories paired with lulu pants did in fact portray this, I knew I had changed.

So the next time you see me, be prepared for a visual onslaught of meanings and themes through the magic of pashminas, dark-washed jeans, and a pair of heeled black leather boots that practically yell "Yes, I am fully aware that I'm a giant. Yes, that's great. Thanks for pointing that out to me. You're right, I need constant reaffirmation. What was that? Eff you, these are Arnold Churgin."