If you had the mental fortitude to make it through the first blog post about Lamar's 85-86 catalog and followed the link here on purpose, congratulations! You are in for a treat. This post will illustrate a little more of what was presented as normal campus life, as well as a long abandoned late registration policy that you might find intriguing. I made these discussions two separate links because, let's face it--there's only so much 80s you can handle in one blog post.
In this next candid shot, we see dueling 80s hairdos--the dental student's styled helmet head vs. the patient's Farrah hair--who will win?
Along with the totally "unstaged" shots of two students together doing academic-type things, we also have several of just one lone student reading, because, as we know, college students read all the damn time, especially when they don't know they're being photographed.
This next picture has a kind of eerie stalker feel to it--you can almost hear the heavy breathing. This poor young woman in her 80s skort and jellies shoes has no idea she's being photographed while she studiously reads up for her Shakespeare class. And again, we're left wondering why this girl is the sole student on campus--is this catalog supposed to be set in a post-apocalyptic era?
Look out, Steffi Graff! This up and coming Vidorian is gonna smoke you at Wimbledon! The young woman below seems to be playing tennis all by herself, and also seems befuddled by just what the racket is for, and the ball for that matter, but by God she's sure she's jammin' in those tennis shorts and t-shirt.
Here we have a young man with windblown hair (Flock of Seagulls fan, perhaps) who is pretending to be mildly pensive about ECONOMICS, Principles of Accounting, and something else--perhaps the text from his Afro-American music course, where the class is studying iambic tetrameter in the lyrics of Schoolly D?
Here is an interesting study--I call it "Lady with Beaker"--this young woman made sure to tease and aquanet the bejeesus out of that mane before she made it to campus where she is, as we can see here, in the process of inventing a hairspray with even more hold.
In perusing the actual text of the catalog, I came across a policy that made me almost cry--from laughter. When you look at the academic calendar below, you will notice that classes begin on August 29th, and late registration ends on August 30th.
However, I do suspect that back in '85, this rule was followed much more stringently than it is now, when "late registration" actually seems to extend about two weeks into the semester.
Overall, what I learned from writing all of this is that college catalogs can function as a kind of unintentional time capsule--they are relics that can tell us quite a bit about a region's attitudes toward everything: education, clothes, hair, and they can also make us realize why the Humane Society is a good thing.
In this next candid shot, we see dueling 80s hairdos--the dental student's styled helmet head vs. the patient's Farrah hair--who will win?
Along with the totally "unstaged" shots of two students together doing academic-type things, we also have several of just one lone student reading, because, as we know, college students read all the damn time, especially when they don't know they're being photographed.
This next picture has a kind of eerie stalker feel to it--you can almost hear the heavy breathing. This poor young woman in her 80s skort and jellies shoes has no idea she's being photographed while she studiously reads up for her Shakespeare class. And again, we're left wondering why this girl is the sole student on campus--is this catalog supposed to be set in a post-apocalyptic era?
Look out, Steffi Graff! This up and coming Vidorian is gonna smoke you at Wimbledon! The young woman below seems to be playing tennis all by herself, and also seems befuddled by just what the racket is for, and the ball for that matter, but by God she's sure she's jammin' in those tennis shorts and t-shirt.
Here we have a young man with windblown hair (Flock of Seagulls fan, perhaps) who is pretending to be mildly pensive about ECONOMICS, Principles of Accounting, and something else--perhaps the text from his Afro-American music course, where the class is studying iambic tetrameter in the lyrics of Schoolly D?
Here is an interesting study--I call it "Lady with Beaker"--this young woman made sure to tease and aquanet the bejeesus out of that mane before she made it to campus where she is, as we can see here, in the process of inventing a hairspray with even more hold.
In perusing the actual text of the catalog, I came across a policy that made me almost cry--from laughter. When you look at the academic calendar below, you will notice that classes begin on August 29th, and late registration ends on August 30th.
However, I do suspect that back in '85, this rule was followed much more stringently than it is now, when "late registration" actually seems to extend about two weeks into the semester.
Overall, what I learned from writing all of this is that college catalogs can function as a kind of unintentional time capsule--they are relics that can tell us quite a bit about a region's attitudes toward everything: education, clothes, hair, and they can also make us realize why the Humane Society is a good thing.
