I love my mom, I really do. Perhaps that's why I let her feed into the frenzy that is shopping for college. Any reasonable person can see that the "moving to college" extravaganza is a ploy by corporations to make us buy things that we don't need. Unfortunately, this commercial frenzy is embraced by concerned, hyperactive mothers like my own who want to throw money at places like Bed, Bath and Beyond. It's like a big, bad Hallmark Holiday that lasts the entire month of August. I can just see those fat cats counting their money after selling us ridiculous things marked up 100 percent and then discounted 30 percent. Before the oh-so-bloated shopping period begins, a ritual occurs between parents and the departing freshmen, especially first-borns. First, there is denial. My mother refused to accept that I was leaving. When she finally realized that I was actually leaving, she kind of cried a lot and made me feel awkward. Next came what I like to call the idiosyncratic speech period. My mother basically started every sentence with some variation on "when you come home every weekend" or "when you call me every night." It was ridiculous. The final stage, and by far the most problematic in terms of blatant college commercialism, is what I like to call the "So my child is going to college, let me deal with my sadness by buying him utterly useless things that will clutter his dorm room but will affirm my excellent parenting" phase. Anything that brings closure is good, I guess. OK, so my mother wants to buy me things so that I'll be comfortable. No problem. It would even be really sweet, except for these corporate vultures waiting to swoop down and take our benjamins. I am sure that these companies employ people to remarket the everyday stuff they can't sell to college student and their parents. Case in point: shower caddies. Shower caddies are little buckets usually sold for 99 cents. Come August, however, the vultures take these little buckets, put another piece of plastic in the middle and sell them for $19.95. I haven't seen such a clever case of remarketing since the Pet Rock. Forget about it. I'm going to stick with my ghetto shower bucket. Something else that really irritates me is the "mattress pad." My mother insists that I get one, but when I ask her to explain why I need it, she says it is there to make my bed more comfortable. Friends, I ask you, isn't that what the mattress is, by definition supposed to do? Why in the world do I need an extra pad to do the same thing? The entire bedding industry is corrupt. First they insist on you getting a bed frame, then they want you to get a box spring, next it's a mattress and now they want us to buy this alleged "mattress pad." No way. I will just put my extra-long sheets on my extra-long bed and go to sleep. Which brings me to the king of all college move-in scams: the extra-long mattress. I first realized that the mattress scenario was a scam when I got a letter from an "agency" at Penn warning my parents to buy sheets quickly (and from them) because sheets for college beds were different than other sheets. True, but misleading. My folks, in their free-spending stupor, almost cut a check for the Penn sheets but then realized they could buy them pretty much anywhere in the free world. Then again, the rest of the free world seems to be in on the scam, too. It probably takes two extra inches of fabric to make extra-long sheets but they cost twice as much as regular twin sheets. It is absolutely absurd. It's cheaper to buy king-sized sheets and wrap them around my bed twice. I could also just make my bed the same way I like to wear my pants: baggy. I love my mom, I really do. If letting her feed into the college shopping frenzy will make her happy, so be it. I can live with a shower caddy and extra long sheets. They're both better than a pet rock.
The Daily Pennsylvanian is an independent, student-run newspaper. Please consider making a donation to support the coverage that shapes the University. Your generosity ensures a future of strong journalism at Penn.
DonatePlease note All comments are eligible for publication in The Daily Pennsylvanian.
