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Columbia is a school of subcommunities and intense (read: bizarre) personalities. On one hand, we have jocks and a sizable Greek Life population. On the other, we’re one of the only schools with multiple “coed literary societies.” The array of events that such groups offer is similarly diverse. It can be overwhelming to scroll down one’s news feed and have to decide between Basketball Mania, WBarbecue, First Friday, or DSig’s Atlantis-themed crush party (P.S. What?!). So, instead of having to choose where to go, sometimes it’s just easier to let your clothes (or lack thereof) do the choosing. That’s why we’ve broken down campus events in terms of what you should wear to them—and what you can expect from your night.

Literally nothing: First Friday’s Clothing Optional Party. Even on a regular day of class you push the boundaries in mesh tops with nothing under them, daring rips, and a lack of undergarments. Let it allllll hang out at this annual body-positive extravaganza, straight out of the Jimmy Eat World “The Middle” music video.

Housepainter garb: Wbangerz 2.0: Techno-Harvest. You may have spent many a night at JJ’s Place debating the most normcore major, the most normcore T-shirt, normcore versus health goth, momcore, health-goth (norm)core workouts, Columbia’s (norm)Core Curriculum, etc. But, at its core, normcore is a white T-shirt, khakis, a blasé attitude, and ironically moshing to music that sounds like the noise your computer makes when it gets caught in the rain.

Bright and tight: The bright and tight frat party. Your wardrobe is eternally #tbt-ing to the day when you went to Forever 21 with your own babysitting money and purchased the hot pink bodycon dress your mom would have never bought for you. If the black and earth-toned daily wardrobe of the Columbia masses makes you long for the neon you didn’t have the heart to leave at home, your day has come. What this party lacks in an original event name, it more than makes up for in jungle juice, accident-inducing bathroom lines, and a complete lack of windows.

Thrift shop finds, then nothing: Potluck House-sponsored subway party. “Please compliment me on my Nixon campaign tee I got at a Bushwick thrift shop,” he thought to himself while walking to his ethnomusicology class. Well, first off, let it be known that I would compliment you, and second off, know that you’ll feel perfectly at home in this subway car full of disoriented Columbians on their way to skinny dip at Coney Island. In other words, I hope you’re not too attached to that shirt.


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