The invite had said “Freshman Orientation & Mixer” for the Saturday evening before classes started, so that’s what I’d expected; a convocation that would explain the rules and regs of life at the Hartford branch of UConn, to be followed by a dance to meet with other new college students.
I’d sewn most of my back-to-school wardrobe, and chosen my favorite never-before-worn dress for my intro to college life. In hindsight, bearing in mind that this was September 1968, and the dress in question was probably more appropriate attire for THAT GIRL heading to a secretarial job interview than a college student, maybe not the best choice – but I’d put so much thought and care (and money!) into it…
Bright red wool, with shiny black buttons, black specialty-silk thread triple top stitching around the scoop neckline and a black belt at the empire waist – much better suited to a young career woman than a 16-year-old coed… but I thought I was stylin’!!!
What I soon found out at the “mixer” part of the evening was that this dress painted a bulls-eye on my back, making me a target to be singled out and terrorized by mean-spirited sophomores who couldn’t wait to “pay forward” the hazing that they had suffered the year before! After being marched across campus in the dark, we freshmen were herded into a room and pelted with raw eggs and verbal abuse, with no escape. One particularly nasty Husky girl emptied an aerosol can of whipped cream into my décolletage and shoved multiple young men at me, commanding them to “lick it up!”
I had never felt so humiliated in my life. After the sophomores got bored with bullying us, we were “allowed” to go to the dance, but all I wanted was to go home. I couldn’t believe what I’d experienced, and that this activity was sanctioned by the University. I was ready to quit college then and there, but since I wouldn’t get my high school diploma for another 10 months, I knew I couldn’t.
I never wore that dress again.