I went into the Hoya Suxa vault and pulled out a classic. Enjoy (and for some of you, enjoy it again).
Hoya Suxa is more than a scholarly examination of Georgetown University. In fact, at its core, Hoya Suxa is an institution of lifestyle -- culture, pursuit, and aesthetics.
As such, this notebook is proud to present the Official Georgetown Bookstore Collection 2010. While Hoya style is fairly static from season to season (the predominate theme since 1789 has been "Mayflower material and nothing less"), the vogue does moderately change each year.
Illustrated immediately below is the cover to this period's collection, followed by vignettes of the offerings.
(1) TACK UPWIND
The wind blows cool off the Mediterranean shore. You, dapper in your twill trousers, hand-woven topsiders, and worn yet comforting university-striped oxford, watch intently as your catamaran careens over the waves, diligently chasing Wellington's vessel like a Burmese cat stalking a mouse. Your bones chill and ache for warmth. The cardigan is inappropriate for this occasion, but you must find refuge.
Enter the fleece. Made of 100 percent endangered sea otter whiskers and tirelessly woven with the delicate touch of Georgetown's personal workforce of child laborers, this fleece carries the power and class of a man of your stature. As you know, sailing is a time of relaxation and detachment; stressful decision-making is best left at the Kitten Killing and Processing office. Let this fleece be the easiest decision of your holiday, you titan of malicious domesticated animal slaughtering industry.
(2) OXFORD BOND
Bond Street, London. You've been there. Your servant -- hired principally for the menial tasks you believe George Washington University graduates are deserving of -- hasn't.
Pull on this shirt and gently rub it in his face how worldly you are as you fire him and detachedly chuckle as he weeps over the personal medical bills he'll no longer be able to pay.
The Proletariat would call it entitlement. Those that fail to benefit from nepotism may refer to it as smugness. A mere BMW owner would call it pompousness. A Villanovan may say that it's vainglorious.
But you're a Georgetown graduate, friend. Wear that shit-eating grin, eyes of unabashed arrogance, and pretentious coiffure with a sinful level of pride.
COST: $200,000 (plus room and board)
(4) A DAY ON THE CLAY
The tennis club just isn't the same these days.
Charlotte -- the godmother to your young trust beneficiary, Walcott -- has become too much. She used to come for weekly tea but ever since her husband Mitchell got into the corporate acquisition game, she has all but disappeared.
Kennedy, that tramp, is social suicide. You wouldn't be caught dead talking to that loose vixen, with her pool boy and gardener trysts. Why would she ever openly carry on such escapades with people of that caste? Sure, Harrison isn't the greatest lover a woman could ask for, but women of your and Kennedy's position engage in these encounters discretely and, at worst, with a cum laude Middlebury graduate.
Caitlin is such a bore. Her backhand is weak and, to be quite honest, her parties are severely wanting with only a string quartet instead of the requisite octet. And don't even start with Alexis. Ever since she started baking -- Can you believe it?!? She actually cooks for herself?!? -- all she wants to talk about is recipes and her newly installed kitchen island.
You're better than these "friends." Wear your pride, and your superior social etiquette, on your chest with this sweater. Made from 100 percent cashmere, this piece of outerwear will ensure your superficial superiority and make that poseur Logan green with envy.
(5) CASUAL WHITE
Wear a polo? Why? Was your husband silly enough to work at an outfit like Lehman Brothers instead of a Georgetown-approved Ponzi scheme?
Show the family you married into that they deserve you with this dress shirt. Made of 100 percent white northern spotted owl feathers, delicately plucked from each creature in Georgetown's Endangering Species Laboratory, this top screams class while simultaneously silencing the muted cries for help from the soon-to-be extinct aerial predator.
There's an old saying: "A smile is the shortest distance between two people."
So, smile wide, proud Hoya! Unless you're driving through southeastern D.C. Then put that smile into your custom handbag because, you know, keep your distance as the poor would love to swipe the keys to your new Mercedes.
Also, wrinkle cream. Think about it.
COST: Your life, if you're not careful.
(H/T: T.P. and D.P.)