I’ve never been completely convinced that we need a magazine. It seems like a lot of drivel wrapped around the alumni reports–if you want to call those reports (does anyone really want to read what the same 15 people are doing with each other month after month)? I used to write daily letters from France when I was away from the campus. But that was to let my fellow priests know that I was alive, because a couple of them were squirrely enough to try to sell-up and pocket the cash while I was gone (Drew Morrissey had a wicked gambling problem).
So I’ll admit to giving the magazine an askance glance when it shows up, if for no other reason than it seems inexplicably to come in triplicate. But as far as the most recent issue of the magazine goes…how shall I properly characterize my reaction…ahhh, yes: WHAT THE HELL IS THAT? Have we become a trashy clothes emporium–I mean the Bookstore aside. Are we selling these ridiculous outfits or the kids wearing them? Who approved this idea, and has he or she sought help for their drinking problem? Please assure me we didn’t pay to have this tripe printed and posted.
But since we’re on the topic of what students today wear (or don’t wear enough of), I’ve got a few salient points about clothing that the magazine didn’t seem to consider. To begin with, let’s be clear: clothes are necessary to cover a person–that’s it. I myself wear a black cassock from neck to ankle. It is wool in winter, linen in summer, and sleeveless for when I’m chopping wood. In cold weather, beneath the cassock I wear a coarse hair shirt to keep me humble, heavy long johns to keep me warm, and boots. In hot weather, I wear boots.
So I’ll admit that fashion is not something with which I am overly familiar–actually rather uncommon for a Frenchman. But I can tell you pretty clearly what I think is appropriate for my students to be prancing around in, and what is not. In winter, everything is pretty much fine, except for garish plaids, though we brought that upon ourselves with the whole embracing of the Irish thing. Now that the weather is warming up, there are a number of problems that I can quite literally see.
For the young women, if I can’t tell whether you’re wearing a skirt or a bib, you need to go back to your room and put something additional on. Granted, the only women I allowed on campus for the first few decades were dressed in black from the top of their heads to their feet, pretty much like me (and a couple of them had comparable facial hair). Furthermore, if any part of your body can be disrobed merely by pulling a string, you are not dressed for polite company–or classes for that matter.
For the young men, I don’t want to see your legs. They are unsightly. If you are going to be presenting your bare legs for the world to gaze upon, they better look like they belong on Michelangelo’s David, and that means using a razor, boys. For some of you Southern European types, that means using a scissors first. Ancient Roman patricians had the courtesy to groom-away the unattractive pelt before they stuck their legs out their togas, and they were pretty hard-working and successful. Take a lesson from them.
For all of you, I don’t want to see your feet–ever. Holy Thursday with its religious foot fetish is a horror for me. But The Lord says I have to endure that. He does not say I have to stare at your dirty, misshapen, often strangely colored, pedal appendages. I used to shoe my own horses, and if I were still in charge around here, I’d be shoeing some of you who think zoris, Hawaii chappal, Japanese sandals, or thongs are suitable footwear for studying or dining.
And thongs are solely and exclusively shower shoes. No other article of decent clothing is covered by that name. Nothing else. I shall discuss this no further, for fear of causing sinful imaginings.
Finally, if I were still President and I caught my boys or my girls lying around on the quad in the sight of the BVM on the Dome, wearing nothing but skivvies or swimwear, I’d expel you–physically. This is Notre Dame. The only time partial nudity or stripping becomes acceptable is during the Keenan Revue.
To sum up, I’m not putting the lads back in suits or the ladies back in chapel veils. I’m just asking for a little decorum. And if we must have a campus-wide discussion of fashion, let it be about a matter of actual paramount importance–the color of The Shirt.
EFS CSC
- Good Fridays w/Padre: WORTHY! - November 30, 2018
- Good Fridays w/Padre: The Horror - October 26, 2018
- Good Fridays w/Padre: BALLS! - September 7, 2018
trey
“Holy Thursday with its religious foot fetish is a horror for me. But The Lord says I have to endure that”
Best line ever
Father Sorin
Son, The Lord says I have to endure a lot of things … like Michigan and USC… it’s all about learning to value suffering.
EFS CSC
Aeroscorp
Father Sorin is quickly becoming my favorite columnist on the site. It wouldn’t surprise me if he turned out to be one of The House Rock Built guys.
Mark G.
Oh Father, forgive me, for I have sinned in my heart. I looked upon the Notre Dame Magazine cover and thought “who’s the babe?” The thought seared my mind even as I sat beside my wife, she a Notre Dame lass, no less. And I went further astray by looking at the fashion photos inside the magazine, focusing more the cuteness of the coeds than on the wickedness of the thoughts they induced. Before you pronounce my penance, I will mention one small detail that should be a mitigating factor in my favor – at least there was a football in every picture.
Father Sorin
Son, your penance is to read all the way through the University of Michigan Wolverines media guide without becoming physically ill… and you must submit to me a book report. If you can do that, not only I but that old German in Rome will forgive you.
dan h.
Dear Fr. Sorin:
Like you I saw the most recent issue of Notre Dame magazine. My reaction was more succint – WTF!!!! I thought maybe it was an April Fools Joke but the publication date was wrong.
This has to rank up there with the hideous video produced a couple of years ago.
I guess I have truly entered the realm of the curmudgeon but I repeat – WTF!!!!!
Father Sorin
Son, you are not a curmudgeon. Once you grow a Biblical beard — then you might qualify.
EFS CSC