As we settle deeper into the fall semester, new students are starting to find their footing here at Cornell, discovering things like knowing when to catch the TCAT 81 in the mornings and when not to go to Okenshields. Another thing that freshmen are trying to discover is their own personal style.
Dressing yourself seems like such a minor thing. You wake up, pick out your outfit, get dressed and then walk to class before your TA marks you late. But for some, those 10 minutes spent picking out an outfit carries more weight than they’d care to admit — it’s the first impression you give to a room of strangers.
Fashion is subjective, or at least, that’s what I like to believe. Personal style is supposed to be shaped by individual taste, like the colors we gravitate towards or the silhouettes we feel most comfortable in. Yet fashion rarely exists outside of social influence. What we wear is shaped by where we live, who we spend our time with and what we can afford. The idea that style is purely personal starts to crack once you step on Cornell’s campus.
Like any college, Cornell has its own fashion culture. Of course, there is no single way a Cornell student dresses — walking from Ag Quad to Statler Hall provides enough evidence of that. Still, certain brands and trends become difficult to ignore. I remember looking around my classrooms and noticing how put together everyone seemed during my first year of Cornell. Every classroom was packed with designer bags and jewelry brands I had never heard of before. Accessories like the Goyard Saint Louis GM Bag or Longchamp Le Pliage Tote became a fun little game for me to point out while walking around campus.
Yet, that fun game can turn into something deeper when you start self-reflecting, wishing you could dress like the fashion trends you see around campus and become part of the sea of other students. I remember feeling ashamed of the clothes I had brought with me, and I’d spend way too much time in my dorm trying to string an outfit together.
This deep anxiety stems from an undercurrent of wealth that runs through Cornell’s student body. Cornell can feel like its own little ecosystem, with wildly different financial realities and personalities. Even though the average student here is only paying roughly $28,690 a year, there is still a big gap between lower-income students and those who pay the full $96,318. On any given day, you might sit next to someone whose family can cover full tuition or someone who has spent countless hours pleading with the Office of Financial Aid to continue their studies at Cornell. This gap that may be otherwise invisible is very clear in the fashion world.
This divide isn't contained within the closet. It follows you into networking events, where you may be surrounded by blazers which cost more than your monthly campus job paycheck or into Fraternity parties where girls are bringing their $200 Coach Teri Shoulder Bags, and guys are wearing Tudor Monarch watches with no care in the world if it gets scuffed. Unlike a financial aid package, an outfit is worn for the world to see. It becomes a socioeconomic marker that others silently judge while walking through the Arts Quad. A Canada Goose jacket isn't just a thick coat protecting you from the harsh winters but a point of financial security that not everyone at Cornell shares. For a first-generation or low-income student, that jacket doesn’t just say something about taste — it says something about income.
At Cornell, it’s hard to distance yourself from the pocket-watching game. With Cornell’s tuition sitting at a pretty $100,000, fashion is a physical reality of wealth distribution on campus. A reality that is constantly being reminded to the students on campus.
In all honesty, there’s no magic way to break free of this anxiety. However, it helps to realize that next to every Cornell student wearing Canada Goose is another student wearing their winter jacket from their sophomore year of high school. The first step is simply recognizing that the Cornell bubble exists and then starting to notice when the comparison games are happening. Once you can do that, it gets easier to lower how much weight you let any single outfit hold. Let those 10 minutes each morning fuel you throughout the day instead of draining you before it even starts — as long as you’re dressing for yourself and not others. That might mean visiting those small clothing pop-ups in Downtown Ithaca or hitting Plato's Closet on a college discount day, repping the comfort pieces that make you feel good. Outside of the internal battle, it helps to surround yourself with people who don’t make you feel judged for your own financial situation.
Fashion will always be a mix of self-expression and social pressure, and finding that balance may seem impossible, especially in a space like Cornell. But recognizing that difference and not allowing it to dictate what you do is something I wish I knew when I set foot on this campus.
Aariyana Edwards is a member of the class of 2029 in the College of Arts and Sciences. She is a staff writer for the Lifestyle department and can be reached at aae49@cornell.edu.
