Amherst undoubtedly prides itself on diversity: the admissions staff presumably does all it can to ensure that we're not 100 percent white and rich (for which the Wilkinsons of the world would love to have evidence). We embrace a multi-cultural community of people from different countries and experiences. But does it show when you see your peers on your way to class? Or to TAP? Amherst boasts a mix of many different backgrounds, but somehow, when we get dressed in the morning we all emerge in the same general outfit. But it's not necessarily because we have given up personal expression in the name of apathy-it's part of a larger sense of uniformity among the student body that begs to be stereotyped.

I sometimes wonder, for instance, when exactly it became common law that everyone own a peacoat. And a gray one from J. Crew, for that matter. When I picture the Amherst student body, I think of a vast array of talents and personalities, each person with their own unique experience. Which is precisely why I'm so disappointed that we all end up in the same packaging. To an outside observer, the majority of us are virtually identical; Abercrombie girls are a dime a dozen, and one is just like the next.

Before I came to college over a year ago, I took a typical shopping spree, stocking up on new sweaters and pants for school. "Don't spend too much before you go, though," my mother urged. "You'll want to see how everyone dresses first and then go shopping over break." I scoffed at the notion: "Why would I want to wear what everyone else already has?" I said, identifying the best option as picking out what I want and wearing it regardless. A few months later, I found myself back at the same mall buying the same items I had seen my friends and roommates sporting. Everyone else had track pants, and so I would too. Everyone wore eye makeup, and so I did as well. The transformation happened before I knew what hit me: I was the same person with the same values, but a new wardrobe. Did it happen because of a weakness in my character that I molded myself to become like everyone else? Or because I just don't care about clothes? I'd like to think the latter.

The result remains the same, though. Whether people's clothes gradually evolve during freshmen year or whether they arrive already dressed like the majority, it doesn't matter-everyone's individual qualities end up blended together in a sea of Banana Republic and Gap.

Now I'm a year older and wiser than upon my arrival, and my clothes have inched ever closer to the norm here. I was at Hampshire yesterday visiting friends (and, ironically, distributing surveys about stereotyping) and as we went to step outside I realized I had left my jacket upstairs. As my friend is just as lazy as I am, she lent me one of her coats so I wouldn't have to go back up. Her coat? A large woven shawl with multi-colored stripes, forming a very warm wrap, versatile like a sari. Would I have ever in a million years worn this on the Amherst campus? Certainly not. But as I walked over to a group of Hampshire students with my new "look" I knew they wouldn't give it a second thought. I realized it might even be enough to provide a graceful cover for my identity as an outsider on their campus.

I am not, by any means, excluded from this disappointing trend towards homogeneity. My coat is a gray peacoat from Old Navy; I'm part of the problem. There is nowhere I feel more accepted and comfortable than here. But is this because of the tolerant and interdependent Amherst community, or because I dress like everyone else?

My first J. Crew item came in the mail the other day, and it felt almost eerie; prior to coming to Amherst, I would have never dreamed of shelling out the money for such a luxury. After a year of strange discomfort seeing the vast majority of my peers have already taken advantage of clothing I used to reject as extravagantly expensive, I have surrendered. But can we really blame ourselves for falling into the Gap? Or for listening to that adorable dog on the Old Navy commercials? Ideally, Amherst students just follow the same style as the majority of their age group across the nation.

But this is not to say that everyone succumbs to the mainstreaming of student dress. There are definitely those who ignore the temptations of Gap.com and just wear and do whatever the hell they please. One of our students is commonly regarded as the resident cowboy. At any given point last Friday night there were at least a dozen attendees at a naked party in the suite above mine. The homogeneous trend is clearly not impossible to resist. But if most others are as lazy as I am-and I'm fairly certain they are-they're unfortunately not going to try anytime soon.