Dear SOS,
With the holidays just around the corner, I'm faced with a lot of shopping decisions. As a guy, I'm not all about traveling far distances and roaming through malls to find the perfect gifts for all of my friends, so I'm thinking the campus bookstore is looking to be a pretty sweet option. And as a college student, I'm not necessarily rollin' in the cash, either. I'd like to get my friends and relatives Tufts gear, but what? I'm not sure what's appropriate - is it tacky to get everyone Tufts logo items? Also, how can I curb my spending habits so I can save my points for embarrassing Hodgdon-Dewick trick miscalculations, and not for my Christmas presents?
Sincerely,Shameful Shopper
Dear Shameful Shopper,
The holiday season can be stressful for all types of people - whether purchasing-inclined or shopping-illiterate; financially endowed or strapped for cash. To some, shopping is considered a sport, but few people know it as its true symbolic likening: a track meet. Like at track meets, there are those jack-of-all-trades shoppers who can excel in everything from the long jump to the pole vault.
Then there are those athletes who stick to one category, like running, and thus fare pretty well in both the 400 and 100 meter races. (P.S. I know absolutely NOTHING about track, except that it is a lot like shopping. Which you'll soon see. I promise.) The final category of "trathletes" (get it? I credit myself for that little rhetorical gem) can be called the "unicompetitor." You know them: they practice one obscure sport (discus throwing?), excel in it, but refuse to try anything else.
Shoppers tend to come in a similar categorization as the "trathletes:" there are those who accomplish their holiday shopping by traversing an eclectic mix of places (i.e. the Internet, department stores, vintage shops, and boutiques), those who work best in a general element (i.e. a mall), and then those, the tried and true "unicompetitors": the one-stop-shoppers. Shameful shopper, if you have yet to figure it out, your calling falls within the bounds of the latter group. But don't worry - javelins ARE pretty cool.
Luckily for you, your shopping style will save you both time and energy. However, limiting yourself to the Tufts bookstore can get expensive, as evidenced by the $6.99 Clearasil face wash. Fortunately for me, I tend to only gravitate towards Tufts gear in small doses (think: flip flops, beverage containers, and key chains), which definitely puts a limit on my Jumbo spending.
However, there are certain family members and friends who merit the gift of the typical Tufts sweatshirt (i.e., overeager high school junior family friends and little-league playing eight-year-old brothers). Heather-grey tee shirts (with the OLD tufts logo, please) make a great buy for gym-going moms and brothers willing to wear the shirt long enough to give it that soft, worn-in feeling by the end of your Tufts career, making it legitimately "vintage."
The campus bookstore is also a goldmine for what few people recognize to be in its namesake: books. Novels, self-help books, and diet guides are just a few of the offerings in the library-esque nook of the bookstore (although the latter two examples should probably be avoided as gift-ideas, at least this year.) A coffee table book paired with a Tufts University coffee mug would make a perfectly caffeinated combo for daddy this year.
When it comes to the financial aspect of holiday shopping, you will have to come to a sublime combination of expenditure curbing and financially sound purchasing, in order to balance the bank. To aid you in your holiday conquests, I have come up with some ideas to cut back on the open wallet syndrome.
One: stop going over at Hodgdon. Having that last frappuccino in your refrigerator will simply NOT be what it takes to entice across the hall-hottie into a late-night "study" sesh.
Two: hide in the last bathroom stall after the dinners before the Method Man and Ted Leo concerts. If you get kicked out, just move into Bush; I hear they have amphitheatre-like listening capabilities from their extra-long twin beds.
Three: sign up for a psychology experiment. (Sorry, Intro to Psych ... Whoa, I forgot about that requirement. Hmm.) Those $15 could be the difference between a pair of comfy fleece sweats and a clearance rhinestone-embellished miniskirt with "JUMBO" written across the backside.
