I want to preface this cursed article by saying that I am fully aware of how disgusting the concept of this is. I’m here to tell you that I don’t give a singular hoot. Needless to say, I didn’t care enough about myself or my health to stop myself from embarking on this journey! Here are five outfits perfect for any occasion that I made from the pile of clothes left in the Old K laundry room:
My night began with me dragging two heavy sacks of smelly laundry to my room. I had tried to come up with what I would say to anyone who happened to come into the laundry room and see me having a photoshoot in clothes that a) obviously weren’t mine and b) may or may not have been washed in the past century, and couldn’t come up with anything that didn’t sound deranged. Even now, I shudder as I sit here writing this in the darkness of my room, the vague forms of the sacks of clothing sitting on my carpet threateningly, their menacing aura piercing into my soul. However, this experience wasn’t all bad. At some point I picked up what I thought were a pair of crusty underwear and asked, “What the shit is this?” to which my friend replied: “Jesus Christ, it’s Jason Bourne!” That one moment was the only good thing to come out of this nauseating couple of hours.
This look is perfect for any modern, hip nun! The plain white tee represents chastity and also blends in with my pasty (nearly translucent) body, while the black maxi skirt represents the pit of despair that is Catholic school. If you’re in the market for a more modest look, I’d find a shirt that doesn’t show as much forearm as this one, but to each their own. My face may say: ‘Help me, I’m being possessed by an ancient, omnipotent demon’, but my body says: ‘I am a sexy parallelogram, hear me roar’!
First off, I’d like to say that if it looks like I’m in extreme emotional pain in this picture, it’s because the whole time that this stylin’ hat was on my head, I was wondering if a whole colony of lice had already taken over my scalp. I was also in the middle of thinking about every socially awkward thing I’ve done in the past seven years, but that’s a story for another time. Regardless, in this funky fresh lewk, I wanted to channel the irreplaceable aura of early 2000s red carpet fashion (Paris Hilton is quaking). Although the shirt was something I definitely would’ve worn back in ye good ol’ days, words cannot describe how much the two (yes, two!) pairs of pants I’m wearing enraged me. The bright pink pants from the Gap Petites collection only went halfway up my legs, which upset me more than it should have, even though they were like, a size 000. All I could think was: when I was born, I weighed 3 oz, tops… I’ve really let myself go. As for the second pair of pants: brownie points for how stretchy and comfortable they were, but the pattern made me think of what skin cells look like under a microscope. I recommend this ’fit for aspiring suburban moms, people named Karen, and middle-aged women who look like they’re about to blow a fuse if they don’t speak to the manager immediately (which are all officially synonyms, according to thesaurus.com).
For this ensemble, I wanted to go for a more ~boho chic~ vibe, evident by the effortlessly cool peace sign that I can be seen making and the hip poster that shows how connected I am to the Mother Nature and the Universe. Pictured here is a lacy silk cami, a pair of stretchy, patterned pants, and a singular, soggy slipper that smelled of mold– essentially what I usually wear on a Sunday! I decided to wear my own shirt underneath it all because I didn’t want to contract some sort of incurable disease. Anyone who believes in chakras and the power of crystals, looks at Co-Star as often as the Weather app, and consistently wakes up at the crack of dawn to make homemade almond milk– this look is for you.
This outfit has a little something for everyone! For those searching for a pop of color, the neon orange tee is a perfect choice– the fact that it stunk (stank? stinkéd?) of a rotten banana doing an impersonation of a dryer sheet really sold it for me. Lily Pulitzer fanatics can rejoice over the pastel pajama pants, and for those of you like me, who only wear the same three neutral colors, I threw in a bland cardigan that is reminiscent of a bale of hay. Keep ’em guessing: Is this a casual loungewear look or did your mom just tell you to haul ass to the front yard and help her bring groceries in (notice the two different high heels)? Are you a recently-divorced parent of three young children or a young teen that spends too much time on Poptropica, mayhaps?
This last outfit brings an entirely new meaning to Safari Party! Inspired by Bear Grylls, I chose to wear a shirt that was made for a small infant, and pants that made me look like Octomom. Am I pledging allegiance to my country or am I waiting for my husband to return from war? Am I the husband returning from war? Am I looking for Bigfoot or am I looking for the will to continue my college education? The world may never know. This is for that one suburban dad who went into REI once and wasted away his life savings on gear for a fishing trip that he thinks will repair his relationship with his estranged teenage son. To conclude this train-wreck of an article, I’d like to give a special shout out to the man who very clearly went out of his way to avoid me on the stairs on the side of Old K while I was posing for this picture– I forgive you and your sins.
Disclaimer: These stunts were performed by trained professionals. Do not try this at home. Also: please claim your clothing, you heathens– unless you left it there intentionally, which I completely understand, because some of it smells rancid and almost forced me to drop out of Kenyon!