If first-years want to make friends and sophomores want to look old, what about juniors? I regressed--it was third grade and the first day of school was the most exciting event in months. And part of that excitement was the new outfit I would get to wear for the first day of school, along with the new teachers, the new kids, and the third graders' spot at the playground.

In approaching my third year here, I realized that I pretty much knew what I was getting into--had the concepts of sectioning and sourcebooks, TFs and tutorials down pat. Nothing was new. But wearing a nice outfit made the day unusual, made it the start of something new, a feeling that for me--as a junior--has become a rare occasion here.

Finally, the seniors, who with their recruiting ties and med school interviews, are getting ready to move on to the Real World, to Life After Harvard, as the people at Let's Go put it. After college, they enter the land of suits and early mornings and parties that don't stink (literally). And for that, they have to be ready. The first day of school is just practice for that important deal.

In spite of, or maybe because of the multiple rationales that students at Harvard might have for getting dressed up, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being kind of a priss for getting all dolled up on Tuesday.

Then I remembered the prayer my mother said after she helped me get ready for the first day of kindergarten. She said that she wanted me to listen to my teachers and enjoying learning from them, and wished me success from that day on. In light of her hopes, a skirt is more than just a skirt. It becomes a hope for a good year and a respect for learning. And that's something that is definitely not frivolous, superficial or materialistic.