Student Voice


December 1, 2023




Pinstripes may decide graduate’s entire future

November 17, 2006

So last week it was decided that I needed a suit for inevitable job interviews, considering I am graduating in less than six weeks. This is something I’m not used to, but I figured I would take it one step at a time. No big deal, nothing to get stressed about.

That lasted until later in the day when I tried on a suit and I realized I had no job waiting for me and no concrete plans other than to leave the Midwest.

Some of my friends are married or engaged and have begun their careers. They are probably looking to start families soon (just because that’s what I assume people in serious relation- ships talk about in their spare time).

And my decision about what type of suit to buy was turning into a circus.

When I asked the tailor which suit looked better with my 3-year-old ripped blue and yellow Asics, she looked at me like I stole the pull cart from her two-legged dog.

“Oh ... hon, you wouldn’t wear those shoes in the real world,” she said.

Apparently tailors have a sense of humor akin to district attorneys.

I told her it was just a joke, and she just shook her head and walked away with my pants. When she came back she explained the different cuts and styles and occasion for each. I saw suits for first interviews, second interviews, parties and one she told me is the type I would want for my “wedding -- which will happen one day.”

Hold on, grimace-faced lady.

“Maybe just the interview for me today, thanks,” I said.

Then she explained to me that is how it works. You get a job, a wife and then kids. She said it like a car salesman selling a minivan highlighting the standard features.

“And with this suit, you get a job, which comes standard with a wife and golden retriever puppy at no extra cost. The 2.5 children are an extra option, but come standard with the Perry Ellis suit."

Silly me... this whole time I thought I was just buying clothes. I was completely unaware that my choice of stripes or no stripes was going to decide the rest of my life.

“I’ll need some time to decide,” I said as I took my tattered jeans back.

The following day I had a run-in with a 9-year-old who took my goggles at the lap pool because I wasn’t using them.

“I’m about to use them if you give them back,” I said.

“Whatever. You don’t look like fun anyway,” he said.

“Listen, buddy. I have to decide what to do with the rest of my life in the next 48 hours,” I replied. Then he swam away with my goggles.

This was the point when I decided against the Perry Ellis suit.

When he came up for air and grabbed the wall, I again asked for my goggles. No dice.

So now I am debating the possession of my own goggles with a kid who sounds strikingly similar to Mariah Carey.

In the end I realized I was like four feet taller than him, and I won.

The next day I went back to applying for jobs in Colorado and realized that I was applying for jobs all over the state. Turns out I’m not tied down to anything.

Now that I am about to graduate with a degree (pending a few tricky journalism finals), I have more options than I could possibly imagine.

That’s a positive, not a negative.

With the recent weight of the world lifted from my shoulders, I went back to the tailor and told her I would decide what I want -- not her. So she brought out the striped suit and the non-striped suit, and I took both of them.