A runway in Ballantine

You get to class early, and there's nothing to do except read the paper, but that gets boring. Your mind begins to wander. In walks a random girl, and you look her up and down to see what she is wearing. Then the diva sits down, begins to flip her hair and apply make-up. Then more people start to walk in and you begin to look at what they are wearing until it becomes some kind of mental fashion show. It becomes a real life version of "Clueless." I often feel classes are more of a fashion show than a time to learn. Women and men make sure they are decked out when they come to class, stylin' and profilin' in the halls of Ballantine, carrying their Hermes bags and wearing Burberry scarves. \nI am all for this behavior, but isn't it ironic that when we think about going to class, the reading assignment that is due is the last thing on our minds. As soon as we step in front of the mirror, thoughts of that really sexy guy in class looking at you in that tight cashmere sweater begin to fill your head. Think about it. Class is much more than a lecture -- it is a place to meet possible romantic companions. Of course, when you look good, you feel good, which means you are more receptive to learning. But where do you draw the line? \nI was in my theatre appreciation class Wednesday when the teacher, Nicole Bertrand, began to explain how people in the 18th and 19th century went to the theater not to see the production, but to see what other people were wearing. They would get all dressed up in gowns and suits and sit by the stage and look at each other. They went to the theater to see and be seen, \nIt made me think about how many times I have been in a situation where I was supposed to be paying attention to one thing, and I was paying more attention to clothes. Church is a big one, but then I thought about going to Catholic school and how we used to roll up our skirts to make them look shorter. It made me realize that I, along with many others, take part in this ritual more often than not. \nWhile reading the latest issue of Suede, I came across an article titled "Finding My Religion: Are the Grown and Sexy Really Down with The King?" The article explored the recent change in social venue from clubs to churches among elitists in the New York fashion scene. It described how many of these so-called churchgoers are no more than opportunists trying to close business deals, make contacts and see and be seen. \n"Instead, this crowd is rocking every name from BCBG to Gucci," according to the article. \nMany of the elitists attend Emmanuel Baptist Church in Brooklyn and the famed Abyssinian Baptist Church where Vogue's fashion icon Andre Leon Talley goes to worship. But they are not worshipping in the traditional sense. Instead, they are worshipping Versace. As I read the article, I imagined the Oukast video "So Fresh, So Clean" where church resembles a fashion show more than a place to praise God. If we are going to church to show off our new skirts then why not just build a runway in front of the altar? That way the bishop can show off his big hat, and the preacher can show off his new suit. After service everyone can take a turn strutting down the runway. \nWouldn't it be funny if people were just blatant about their narcissism? Wouldn't it be great if every time a well-dressed girl walked into the room, we had a photographer waiting, and all the other students would clap? I got it, we can lay out a red carpet on the first floor of Ballantine, play "I'm Too Sexy" and go from there. \nI will be the first one to admit I pretend my leg itches so I can pull up my pants and show off my new boots. I love getting dressed up and receiving the attention, be it in class or at a bar. Besides, like my grandma always says, "You never know you who are going to meet"