I recently purchased a Nalgene water bottle and I can say with full conviction that my life is 100 percent better. I’m more hydrated, my skin is clearer, and suddenly, everyone thinks that I did FOOT instead of spending the last week before freshman year at home crying and eating stale cupcakes left over from my graduation party two months before. Before, when people would see the generic vessel I was using to tote my hydration, they would say, “Hey, that’s a white girl who clearly prefers to stay indoors, and therefore must not have attended a pre-orientation program.” Now everyone’s asking me what I said in my Hometown! Thanks Nalgene!
D: Those fancy Y sweaters
As the summer comes to a close and a fall breeze nips at the air, nothing says, “I went to the bookstore” quite like wearing those fancy Y sweaters. If you don’t own one, you’ve definitely mocked someone who does, but let’s all stop lying to ourselves. The weather in New Haven can get chilly, and what’s wrong with committing to a warm outer layer that coyly hints at your socio-economic status? Nothing, that’s what. Yeah, they’re expensive, and probably unnecessary, but I’ve eyed that yarn gauge from afar, and as soon as I get that consulting job (which will happen as soon as I finally figure out what consulting actually involves), I’m going to buy one for every day of the week.
Fail: Wearing free shirts from other schools
Congratulations Dartmouth Admits of 2019! And Cornell Admits of 2019! And Princeton Admits of 2019! We’re tickled pink (well, blue) that you chose our humble little school. And while I know it must be hard competing with 1,363 other genuine geniuses, let’s try to keep the non-Yale school apparel to a minimum. You can no longer get laid by dropping the “Y” word, because literally everyone here can, plus we’ve all had op-eds on published in the New York Times and had ensemble roles in both the on- and off-broadway productions of Newsies. But that doesn’t mean you need to prove yourself by showing you got into Harvard as well. Laundry day emergencies and swag with real sentimental value are acceptable (yes, I do believe you and your Stanford boyfriend will be together forever), but seriously: no one really cares that you got into all eight Ivies and Wesleyan and Amherst and Deep Springs and SUNY Purchase and Loyola Maryland and Sweet Briar (RIP). I mean this in the most loving way: invest in a fancy Y sweater and get over yourself.