Saturday, February 20, 2010

Smells Like Teen Spirit

This past week was a collision of two things in our lives that could not be more unfortunately, if not comically, matched. The first is spirit week, a high school tradition like no other, a chance for one and all to dress like idiots and actually have an excuse to do so.
The second event was the opening of the Foot in The Door exhibit at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts, an exhibition in which anyone can submit some art piece to the show as long as it is smaller that one cubic foot. Keela and I both submitted something and on Friday we were scheduled to go on an outing to see the show. 

 Here is the the spirit week schedule (one of the worst I have witnessed in my  high school career)

Monday: No school
Tuesday: Pajama Day
Wednesday: Formal Day- this one is the most unfortunate
Thursday: Olympic Day
Friday: School Spirit Day, this means as much purple as humanly possible ( Foot in The Door Trip)

Now, the problems started early with this spirit week business as I believe pajama day should be reserved for those who have real matched two piece pajamas to wear and Keela believes that pajamas, or even pajama-type clothing should never be worn at school.
Needless to say we did not participate in the first day of our very last spirit week. 
Wednesday was another non-participatory day. Formal day? What fun is formal day?
Thursday- Olympic day- was the point at which the real intrigue sets in, not really, but we thought it was funny. I showed up at school in jeans, blue suede boots and a red baseball tee shirt, very American but completely unintentional. Keela on the other hand, showed up with a red hair bow, red shoes, blue jeans, a white shirt, and a dark-purple-could-never-really-pass-for-blue sweater. Thus, Keela's attempt at school spirit gold was deemed a failure. 

Here comes the tale of true triumph. We have always excelled where it really counts, school spirit, wearing the most gaudy, awful, sparkly outfits we can find. And this year not only did we wear them within the relatively safe walls of Southwest High School, but we wore them through the crowded galleries of the Minneapolis Institute of Art, a true success if I do say so myself, as it seemed that that particular Friday was the day that every suburban school in the state visited the museum. They loved us. I know it.

Check out the pic.

(Photo by KSP)

Spirit week. What an interesting notion. I don’t know how I feel about trying to obtain an education while wearing my pajamas or an obscene garment for formal day…when I say ‘I don’t know,’ I mean I despise it. Class color day is acceptable (for dominance purposes of course), school spirit is definitely acceptable, but pajama day and formal day are the result of no creativity. This results in the majority of the student body being manipulated by the student government and their idea of molding a magical sphere of teen school spirit. Now don’t get me wrong, I think school spirit rocks, but it isn’t possible to obtain such spirit through the hot and stuffy confinement of fleece fabric, specifically footsie pajamas purchased from the kids section at Target.
Luckily, Lily and I saw this coming from day one. We were armed and prepared to fight until the fuzzy onesies were destroyed and blasted out of our solar system. However, we don’t act through the ways of violence, only through non-violent resistance. So, we resisted the oh-so-tempting urge to lock ourselves in footsie pajamas for 6 ½ hours, and we wore real clothing. Not the fuzzy kind.

The worst part of spirit week? Witnessing girls stomping around in fuzzy footsies with Uggs. That’s too much fuzz.

Do I even have to comment on formal day? Two words: we resisted.

BUT, we did have the urge to wear pajamas on formal day. Just for funsies. People would freak out. We would laugh.

Our spirit day outfits were a success: a couple sequins here and there, some purple, and a splash of white. We made our artistic debut at the MIA in visual art (Foot in The Door) and in fashion. I was tempted to tape a sign on my body that read: I don’t see you wearing sequins! Or I could have worn one that said: Look buddy, I dressed myself this morning, I know there are a few sequins on my sleeve. So move it.

But I didn’t. I showed them by beam routine instead. They weren’t so judgmental after they witnessed my ‘flippin’ good choreography.’ Kidding. Sequins don’t make me go that crazy.

All in all, it was a two day spirit week for Lily and I.
A damn good one too.


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