Oh, my sweet summer child. Take it from someone who was very concerned with what to wear to uni in the hopes of ending up on UNSW Love Letters, this penguin knows exactly how you feel. As said by the fabulously ridiculous Rupaul, “the world is your runway.” And I took that personally.
In my eyes, university fashion is the perfect mating call (even platonically!). How else am I meant to alert everyone in my 9am tutorial that I am not only mysteriously gorgeous, but also just a chill guy? This kind of aura-farming takes meticulous planning, including waking up three hours before I even needed to leave the house, and one too many meltdowns at the hands of a hairbrush. I will say, it was certainly worth it. I, Walter, have a wonderfully awesome circle of UNSW peeps that I sometimes attribute to my effortless style and eye for fashion.
For a while, I began to feel just like you, dear Blitzian. My efforts began to feel fruitless when I would witness first years strutting around the light rail stops decked out in their North Faces and Gucci and messenger bags that look far less dorkish than my backpack (thanks, shoulders). I let my style prowess fade as I got older, trading bootleg jeans for sweatpants…
And you know what? I don’t think it changed a thing.
