The Power of the Peacoat

Of the many lessons learned by Penn students this past Halloweekend, the most important one was the blistering realization that it’s time to get a fall jacket. Shivering down Locust Walk in seasonally inappropriate costumes, there’s no denying that the lovely Philadelphia wind chill has set in. While some dreamed of their trusted leather going-out jackets and others longed for the simplicity of a puffer, in the light of day, another contender has reemerged: peacoats.

From Perelman bathrooms to Williams Cafe, you can’t escape the sight of big collars and even bigger buttons across campus. Black, navy, gray, beige––all the colors of a Penn wardrobe rainbow. I’ve bought into the trend myself, though the more accurate term would be “raided-my-mother’s-closet.” In the dim lighting of my dorm, I put together the perfect everyday outfit: dark blue jeans, a warm white sweater, and my “new” gray peacoat. Throw on some New Balance sneakers and an assortment of jewelry, and I’m ready for whatever rush-hour Pret has in store for me.

Yet, as my mother takes in my new fit from where she’s made herself at home on my dorm bed, she says: “That’s exactly what I used to wear to work in my late-20s.” And she’s right.

I can’t deny the fact that my go-to outfits these days lean more business-casual than actually approaching casual. I’m not alone in that. As the days shorten and the sleeves lengthen, this undying underlying sense of professionalism has only become more apparent. Even at nine in the morning, Penn students will be dressed like they’re prepping for their future nine-to-fives, peacoats and all. I would, as many CAS students love to do, blame it on “Wharton culture” leaking out of the confines of Huntsman, but I can’t–– because I noticed the exact same thing when I visited my friend at Columbia. Sweaters instead of sweatshirts, jeans and even trousers instead of sweats. It wasn’t everyone, but it was enough to recognize the pattern.

Image courtesy of Pinterest

Young adults choosing, of their own volition, to dress in business casual. Yet, who can really be surprised? I watched fourteen-year-olds at my high school flaunt Harvard sweatshirts from Brandy Melville for a reason: it’s a brand, an aesthetic, the idea of what it means to be “Ivy League” that goes hand in hand with the romanticization of “Old Money” looks. To some degree or another, everyone at these schools bought into that idea. Why do you think every other seat on the Amtrak out of 30th Street Station is filled with red and blue?

Whether it’s in my Penn sweatshirt or my peacoat, I’m guilty of all of the above. As my style slowly shifts in front of my dorm mirror, I can’t exactly tell how much of it is me exploring my sense of self, how much of it is peer influence, and how much is straight-up sheep-esque conformity. Probably all three, possibly none of the above. But at least I’ll be warm this winter as I figure that out.

Cover image courtesy of Pinterest