Soon we will be fully-fledged Adults, released into the Real World, where drinking $9 wine at 10am, relying on cereal as a staple dietary component, and chatting up first-years in Estab will all become rampantly socially unacceptable. We will be forced to accept our fates as Functioning Members of Society, stop expecting our parents to pay our phone bills, cease participation in Mojito Mondays and get Proper Jobs, using the extortionately-priced pieces of paper we struggled through three-plus years of all-nighters and excessive quantities of coffee to obtain.
Tips for camouflaging as a Grown-Up:
- Knit the hair of your 87 cats into a matching sweater, scarf and mittens combo, spray yourself with the scent of mothballs and carry a packet of Werther’s Originals at all times. Ensure that you keep photographs of aforementioned cats on hand to impress the girls at the bridge club with.
- Pair your Nike Roshes with a Country Road mum top and puffer vest, exclusively wear tasteful shades of beige and off-white, loudly brag about your quinoa Bircher muesli recipe, and the energy efficiency of your solar-powered blender. Never be seen without a soy matcha latte and yoga mat in hand.
- Avoid wearing a longline bra instead of a shirt with five-inch platform sneakers and violet lipstick to meet your landlady, boy-thing’s parents or potential employer. Also maybe do not stick rhinestones to your face, be seen in wedge-heeled glitter jelly shoes, a tiara, pink faux fur, or carry a Hello Kitty backpack in any context whatsoever.
- If you are at the supermarket and realise you’re wearing a near-identical outfit to that of a tutu-clad toddler, with the addition of platforms instead of fairy wings, you’re probably not doing great.
- Dress only in lingerie, fur coats and stiletto heels, tottering about with a martini in hand and Lana Del Rey playing softly in the background, whilst toting one of your dozen Prada handbags and pushing your elderly husband’s wheelchair.
- Pair your Ralph Lauren polo with a Ralph Lauren cap and boat shoes, incessantly talk about golf, your tennis scores and the economy. Occasionally pop into the office to alternate between playing computer solitaire and staring at a wall all day (looking at you Commerce students).
- Dress for the job you aspire to, wear Victoria’s Secret Angel wings and a Swarovski crystal-encrusted bustier to the law firm.
- Never, ever change out of your graduation robes or cap, perpetually flaunt your academic prowess for the remainder of your fragile human existence. Your flesh prison becomes your CV, you are a walking advertisement for yourself. (You may, however, begin to smell.)