By Emile Riga
Ever since Ryerson shut down the catwalk better known as in-person classes, students are facing the terrifying reality of their vintage tees not being in the line of sight of others.
A recent Eyeopener survey revealed that 56 per cent of students that used to intentionally walk into class late to flex their XL sweater vest and tote bag have struggled to recapture that main-character moment and are still chasing that high.
“I remember it so vividly,” said Luther Shredz, a second-year RTA media production student. “I had just copped this new beanie from Black Market, and when I entered Theatre #5 for my tutorial at 2:17 p.m., all eyes were on me. I haven’t felt that rush since.”
Fourth-year creative industries student @_brxzyjay_ expressed his frustrations with the newly developed intricacies of Zoom classroom tension, saying “Some shordie I know texted me asking ‘Did you like the chain I had on during class today ;)’…How am I supposed to know? There were 96 mans in the call and I was making KD the whole time.”
While many students have deemed it impossible to display their fits on Zoom, some have come up with new ways to get their quarantine drip noticed by fellow students who could not care less.
“Sometimes I’ll pretend to get up for something important so I can show my class that I’m wearing my thrifted Levi’s and that I have a Pulp Fiction poster,” said Brittney Barantino, a second-year film studies student.
Barantino preferred not to comment on whether or not she has seen Pulp Fiction in its entirety.
“Personally, I make a bit of noise into my mic on purpose so I know I’ll show up on the first page of the Zoom call. I’ll give you that one for free, baud,” said Brodie MaCenzeygh, a fourth-year RTA sport media student who really wanted to exhibit his new Tom Brady x Tampa Bay Buccaneers jersey he got from Champs.
“Taking off marks for flexing my drip was crossing the line for me”
Ryerson professors have taken notice of this phenomenon and some have even deducted participation marks to students for being “fuckin’ dweebs” or “killing the chill vibes,” according to an anonymous faculty member.
“If I can still spot your fake Gucci through a webcam lens, I am going to reconsider your academic integrity and your belonging in my class,” said Florence Milan, a Rye fashion design instructor.
The students who fell victim to these disciplinary actions claim that professors do not understand the stakes at hand and the significance of self-expression through clothing.
“Taking off marks for flexing my drip was crossing the line for me. I have a reputation to maintain. They call me Connor-salad, cuz I be dressin’” said Connor Yurmom, an Oakville resident studying business management.
The Eye’s latest Twitter poll results reveal that despite the incoming winter season and the fact that laptop cameras only show a students’ chest and up, 62 per cent of students will still go so far as to wear their Doc Martens to Zoom class.
Various sources have also informed The Eye that other notable accessories have unfortunately been visually neglected in the online format. These include North Face puffer jackets, Varsity athlete backpacks, empty Starbucks cups and student residence lanyard key holders.