FDOC: Speedway’s Annual Black Parade

By Mallory Morgan

It’s 11 p.m. on a Sunday in August. You and your roommate are freshmen living in Duren Hall and are up preparing to stunt tomorrow. The semi-permanent dorm playlist containing Summer Walker, Giveon, Leon Thomas, and Jhene Aiko blasts on the JBL Flip speaker, and it’s blasting louder than it should during quiet hours. Your roommate is finishing her last knotless braid, and you just finished your twists to rock your afro for the next day. “Which chain?” “Grills, or no?” and “Brown or black hair scarf?” are questions flying around the room. You finally settle on your outfit, laying it on your chair underneath your Poetic Justice poster, and you and your roommate watch Princess and the Frog to slow down the feeling of growing up. The next day?

FDOC.

FDOC, the first day of classes, is a staple in the Black community, highlighting cultural fashion and remarkable scholarship throughout Black American history.

The Past

Your roommate is sound asleep, but you’re not. Staring at your ceiling, you enter ancestral thinking. The school you attend has only allowed people who look like you to come for 68 years, and being Black there wasn’t peaceful for decades. Looking at your FDOC outfit on your chair in the corner of your dorm, you humbly appreciate the people who once came before you to get you to where you are now.

At first, dressing up for the first day of classes was out of respectability politics. In the 1920s, Black students at HBCUs often wore suits and ankle-length dresses, reflecting a desire to present themselves as polished and capable in the face of societal expectations. During the ‘30s through the ‘50s, the next generation of students wore their Sunday best out of pride from their parents who attended the same HBCUs that they once did. With the rise of the Civil Rights Movement in the ‘60s and the height of collegiate integration, wearing black turtlenecks and afros for the FDOC, dressing with unwavering Black pride, was a sign of protest.

Attending a predominantly white institution as a Black student in the ‘90s and 2000s was no longer an anomaly, so Black culture was emulated more in outfits. Inspired by the rise of hip-hop and popular Black media, the trends of dashikis, Adidas, and baggy pants made their way into Black fashion.

Now, there’s a blend of historical trends with current flair. Bringing back styles from the start of the new millennia, Black collegiate fashion is all about reclamation and restoration.




The Present

Monday morning. You’re on Speedway, seeing it filled with graphic tees, bows, and grills. Fresh Shine N’ Jam and the new shoe smell scents South Campus. You decided on a white button-down with the bottom half open, your star jorts, an abundance of gold jewelry, and your new Telfar. You and other Black students show off their fits via 360 spins and sit down with your friends to talk about FDOC.

“Black people, not even the first day, maybe the first two weeks, want to stand out,” says freshman business major Bryan Kamga. “We obviously go to a PWI, and not everyone looks or dresses like us, so having someone we can resonate with is something very important.” Freshman psychology major Elfatih Sadalla agrees, saying, “Growing up, it was a reflection about how your summer went, what you bought. It was a reflection of your character.” Sharing similar favorite fashion trends, like jorts, camo, and music artist t-shirts, you wave goodbye to them.

Walking around campus before your next class, you see another Black student whose outfit is incredible. Complimenting her outfit on the way to class, you stop to have a short conversation with her. “Black students do tend to dress up for classes, especially the first day,” junior Arianna Jenkins says. “Culturally, we have a history of getting a new pair of shoes, our parents taking us shopping all summer, getting our hair done, and sending us off. It’s the idea that we have to present ourselves the best on every first and last occasion.” She explains that she’s a textiles apparel major, and Black designers and fashion inspire her and are often reflected in her work.

The Future

Black fashion is starting to become more popular and mainstream. With the rise of Black designers like Kendall Miles and Brandon Blackwood and the love of risk, fall 2024 Black fashion will be a proud reflection of within, living life in living color.  Colored braids, specifically reds and blondes, unconventional colors for sweatpants, and maxi skirts will fill Speedway this upcoming fall. And, somehow, Black people will find a way to revive a dead trend, probably patchwork. With every chain, curl, and carefully chosen fit, today’s FDOC isn’t just a fashion statement—it’s a celebration of where we’ve been, where we are, and the legacy we carry into the future. ■