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From Siona Listokin's, "Think Different," Fall '99 From Siona Listokin's, "Think Different," Fall '99There are many different ways to describe October. It is delightfully cold. It is collegiate, pea coat, leafy, pink cheeks. It is so? New England. Actually, October is WASP appreciation month. Dorky clothing is cool in October. Preppy outfits sprout up all over campus. I am not referring to the casual chic that J. Crew sells or the sellout A&F; hat. And I am certainly not talking about anything Prada or Calvin Klein -- nothing screams new money more than a conspicuous designer label. I mean old school geeky: the Talbot's paisley turtleneck and the L.L Bean unisex wool sweater. In October, these clothes actually look good on everyone. Scarfs without jackets become acceptable -- it makes perfect sense that only your neck is cold. Ditto to vests. And it is finally cold enough to break out the ultimate prep wear: the pea coat, the jacket that makes everyone pretty. In October, I consider registering as a Republican. The weather makes me want to keep things exactly the way they are -- to let the wealthy make more, and to leave those other people to fend for themselves. A return to good, old fashioned values. Yummy October conservatism. Too bad for the GOP that voting day is in November. It would be a perpetual WASP landslide if we chose our leaders in October. Something about October awakens memories of things that have never happened to me. I suddenly recall attending prep school somewhere up in Rhode Island. Strangely enough, this prep school in Rhode Island is all male, Holden Caulfield is my roommate and Robin Williams is my English teacher. These are the best years of my life, and they never even happened. This month, Harvard hosts the Head of the Charles regatta -- need I say more about October's claim on WASP importance? America's pretty people sit on the banks of a pretty river to watch pretty races. It almost makes me forget that my grandmother was born in Poland. In October, I find myself speaking in Boston Brahmin about things I know nothing about. Just yesterday, I heard myself saying, "What a fine day for an autumn stroll." I do not know what that means, but it felt appropriately aristocratic. In October, I can dream of Junes spent summering in the family compound at Kennebunkport. This is not a new phenomenon. The October I was nine, I stamped my foot decisively and demanded "real pearl studs, Daddy" in honor of my upcoming birthday. By November, I had regained my senses and asked for Mr. Game Show instead. In October, I look forward to the skiing months ahead. Skiing requires money, immunity to cold and long car trips to Vermont and Maine. These are all attributes that WASPs hold dear to their hearts. Never, ever plan a trip to some cheap Cancon resort for fall break. That would be sacrilege. In October, we can all pretend to be what most of us are not. Take this time to reflect on a culture that cannot be bought, a heritage we all share regardless of how many generations we have been in the country. It is a month filled with Bloodies and Sunday brunches, flannel and madras. Use the few days remaining in WASP appreciation month to go apple picking, to play field hockey, to wear Top Siders without socks. And find a crisp morning to stand outside until your cheeks pick up that ruddy WASP look. Besides, in October, we all have blue blood.

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