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In This Issue

• A Modest Proposal for Iraq
• An Indie-Rocker Falls Into the Gap
• Beware of People Selling Stuff, Except Us
• Women Need to be Vulnerable and Easy Again
• Marriage is the Perfect Career
• All The Cool Kids Are Doing It...
• Girl Sells Soul to Pour Investment Bankers' Coffee
• Wendy's Sells the Fuck Out: Lame With Mayo
• I Used to Listen to Jesus Christ, Before He Went Mainstream
• The Singing Senators: Behind the "Music"
• In Gateway, I Designed a 3-D Noose
• Barnard Woman Tries to Use, Not Give, Head
• Mexico: Taco Bell Without Plumbing
• Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Collect $200
• Wacky Fun Whitey Gets a Date
• Colombia Spectador
• Columbia Bookstore's Introduces New "Ghetto-fab" Line of Clothing

For years, I've tried to assert my fierce individuality in the way I dress. I wanted my clothes to display a style that was uniquely mine. I would scour thrift stores for bargains on humorous T-shirts and clothing from various eras to put together outfits that never quite fit or matched, but whose outlandishness at least made them look much different than everyone else's. And I thought this made me cool?

Not long ago, I was dragged to the mall by a friend whose mainstream tastes I had always found rather embarrassing. Much to my horror, she was not satisfied merely to wander through department stores, insipidly circling each rack and occasionally lifting up a skirt to say, "Look, isn't this cute?" No, she had to take me, of all places, to the Gap. I refused to go inside. As I paced back and forth in annoyance while she frolicked in the jeans section, one of the mannequins caught my eye. It was wearing khaki pants and a light blue button-up blouse. The sleeves were rolled up in a way that looked carefree and casual. The subdued colors gave off an air of understated confidence, rather than an ostentatious, mismatched, desperate -- though colorful -- cry for attention. The models in the pictures, too, were happy and smiling. They were even . . . sexy. If I dressed like that, would I be happy and sexy too?

I decided to venture inside. I saw that all the people there were dressed in the same way... the Gap way. And they all did look happy and attractive. Why had I disliked this place? Many of them were wearing khaki pants, which I had always scorned as plain and boring. But now I saw that this was just what made them so wonderful. Because they were plain and boring, they could be worn with everything and still match perfectly! This made them worth the $50. All my attempts to be interesting had simply been impractical.

Suddenly, I realized that my thinking had been wrong all along. I had wanted to stand out. Whenever I wore a new thrift store outfit to school, I had hoped that people would notice it and compliment me. Instead, one of the cool kids would always disgustedly say something like: "Where'd you get that? A thrift store?" And everyone would laugh, and I would be embarrassed. Why would I be embarrassed? Obviously, I realize now, because wearing thrift store clothing was something to be ashamed of. It made me look--dare I say it?--poor! When I had thought dressing differently made me unique, it had really just made me weird loser.

The cool kids in high school had all worn Gap clothes. None had looked unique, but they had all looked cool. I mean, they were the cool kids, and if that was how cool people dressed, how could I have thought I could be cool by dressing differently from them? Now I realized that to be cool, I simply had to buy my clothes at the Gap. Who would have thought it was so easy?

Seeing the light, I began grabbing V-neck sweater sets and boot-cut khakis. My friend was glad to see me joining in the fun. A salesperson, who was both friendly and pretty, came to help me. I tried on the clothes, and everyone complimented me on how good I looked in them. Many of them said, "Oh, I have that outfit. I love it!"

I had become part of a community, a family. No one looked at me like a freak. They treated me like a person, a cool person, like one of them. Because I looked like all of the rest of them, I was special too.

I only bought a few things because I couldn't afford more than $250. It was worth it, though. With my Gap clothes, I am now happier and better than I ever was in my thrift store rags. And everyone agrees that my new jean jacket is sooo cute!