 |
| · · · · · · · · · |
|
Pomona College Magazine is published three times a year by Pomona College
550 N. College Ave, Claremont, CA 91711
Online Editor: Mark Kendall
For editorial matters:
Editor: Mark Wood
Phone: (909) 621-8158
Fax: (909) 621-8203
PCM Editorial Guidelines
Contact Alumni Records for changes of address, class notes, or notice
of births or deaths.
Phone: (909) 621-8635
Fax: (909) 621-8535
Email: alumni@pomona.edu
|
|
| · · · · · · · · · |
|
|
|
|
|
|
Flip-Flopping
Exposed toes pose no sandal-scandal for
today’s casually-clad Sagehens; some strive for a semester without
socks.
By Anne Shulock '08
Visiting campus as a prospective student, Meredith Pressfield ’08 wasn’t
sure if she liked Pomona College. Then she saw a student dressed up in a
suit to give a presentation. To complement the formal clothes, he wore
flip-flops. “That pretty much sold me on Pomona,” she says.
This blending of business and beachiness encapsulates Pomona, where
students work hard, yet do so dressed like they’re off to Malibu, not
the classroom. Flip-flops have a foothold on other college campuses as
well, but Southern California’s sunny weather allows students to expose
their toes year-round. “The only time that I wear real shoes is to go
running or to the weight room,” says Michel Grosz ’08, who wore out four
pairs of flip-flops last spring. Adds Sara Goldstein ’08: “Flip-flops
are my life.”
Stuart Friedel ’08 appreciates the footwear freedom at Pomona. He
attended a high school in Florida with a uniform that banned flip-flops.
“The administration thought that making students wear collared shirts
and closed-toed shoes would breed an air of seriousness that they link
to academia,” he says. But at Pomona, “we can be laid back and still
(be) smart, and that attitude has manifested itself in style and shoes.”
Pomona, like the rest of the nation, used to be more formal: Lee Harlan
’55, Pomona’s former alumni director, recalls that “men had to wear
coats and ties, and women dressed for dinner … and freshmen could not
wear Levis until the second semester.” These days, however, many faculty
members don’t mind students wearing flip-flops to class. “Footwear, bare
feet even, seem quite irrelevant to the business of doing art history:
I’m just glad to have a student attend class,” says Judson Emerick,
professor of fine arts and art history.
And so Pomona’s flip-flop fanatics cling to their comfy
footwear—sometimes for too long. Friedel tells how he went to visit a
friend’s great aunt, and “she joked that she was going to call my
parents to tell them about the sorry state of squalor of my flip-flops.
There were three or four quarter-sized holes in each one.”
Katie Mathews ’07 will duct-tape a worn-through pair rather than throw
them away. It’s better than getting stuck wearing shoes. “I hate socks,”
she says. “They make your feet sweaty and itchy, and they’re binding. …
Putting on socks would add an extra three minutes to my routine ... and
that could be three more minutes of sleep or procrastination.”
Despite students’ commitment to their sandals, the relationship
occasionally turns rocky. “I have definitely fallen multiple times
because I wore [flip-flops] when it was raining and slipped on a wet
sidewalk,” says Goldstein. Jessica Ladd ’08 admits, “the bottom of my
feet are always black.”
Yet Pomona’s laid-back attitude prevails over these disadvantages to
make flip-flops must-have footwear. Says Adam Conner-Simons ’08: “You
know your institution of higher learning is mellow when your … professor
tells you that she doesn’t honestly expect you to … [wear] closed-toed
shoes to lab, saying ‘even I realize that it’s too gorgeous outside for
socks.’”
When students leave Pomona—and the weather and attitude to which they’ve
become accustomed—they sometimes suffer flip-flop separation anxiety.
While finishing her semester abroad in Chile last spring, Mathews said,
“my biggest complaint about winter in Santiago is that I have to wear
actual shoes. Sometimes, I stare longingly at my Reefs and hope that
global warming will allow me to wear them on one unnaturally hot winter
day.” Nora Becker ’07, who spent last spring interning in Washington,
D.C., was required to wear closed-toed shoes for her job. “The East
Coast is way too uptight about stuff like that,” she says.
Both women feel better in flip-flops. “If I’ve had a stressful day,’’
says Mathews, “all I have do is look down at my feet and think to
myself, ‘things can’t be all that bad. It’s winter somewhere and you’re
[in California] wearing your favorite flip-flops. So stop pouting.’”
Becker adds that having exposed toes makes her feel more relaxed and at
home.
Or maybe Pomona’s flip-flop fixation has deeper roots. Grosz reveals
that “over winter break I bought four pairs of Old Navy flip-flops. And
guess how much I paid? 47 cents a pair.” |
|
|
|
