Mundelein’s Monster: Impractical Fashion

In the beginning, the Mundelein Center ground floor halls fill with the aroma of coffee and the lively sound of bustling of students and professors alike heading toward their classroom destinations. Like a busy marketplace, students of every major congregate and weave through the large crowds with relative ease. 

Students of every creed and background congregate here, all aiming to scale the tower known as Mundy. But among the crowds, an insidious beast lies dormant, only awoken with the elevators’ ascension past each floor. This beast goes by many names, hides in many faces and infects students like an airborne disease. 

That beast is the liberal arts student’s fashion sense, which permeates every inch of the building. 

Some may be blind to the infection, living among Loyola’s commonfolk without taking the proper precautions to prevent the spread. They compliment passersby on their unique and impractical shoes and speak of niche, underground Depop trades without knowing how deadly the disease is — nor that they’ve become one of its victims. 

The lair of this beastly disease lies on the eighth floor of the classroom skyscraper — but it’s far from sequestered. Its evil seeps down toward the ground floors, threatening the fragile ecosystem of business majors and first-years fulfilling their core requirements with a future of patterned fabrics and impossible outfit designs. 

Many of the infected may seem like their normal selves at first, but ascending the tower peels back their facade of humanity. Underneath their exterior lies an unquenchable thirst for hipster approval and narcissistic self-expression. 

But these desires can only be fulfilled by dressing in the most niche, the most online and the most abnormal ways possible — a perpetual war waged in the name of obscure fashion. 

The students of the higher floors dress to impress in Depop designer, RealReal regalia and stunning second-hand apparel. But when questioned about the origin of their attire, they all cry “thrifted” in their quintessential gatekeeping way. 

The Bible tells us the Tower of Babel was built with the idea that the closer to the heavens, the holier the location. This is the same facetious lure that draws false fashion idols to swarm the upper floors of Mundelein, discussing their pretentious humanities courses and part-time sommelier habits.

But like the builders of Babel, the pursuit of flamboyant fashion leads Loyola students not toward a higher plane, but to impractical, inconvenient and expensive fashion choices. 

Perhaps the awareness of the ghastly fashion affront to Loyola’s students is a burden only carried by those infected. Not every outfit needs to be niche, branded or compel a kind of social respect based on a perceived notion of coolness. 

All an outfit needs to be is comfortable for the wearer, not a part of a compulsory competition.