Red Upside-down Triangle
By Anna Torres

aaaahen I was in 8th grade, all the cool kids at my school started wearing "Guess" brand jeans. I'm sure you remember them from your own junior high school days: light denim, tapered leg; no particular embroidery on the pockets, no special rivets or button-up flies on the front, no fancy belt-loops around the waist; nothing special at all really--except for a small red upside-down triangle sewn onto the back right pocket, calling out simply "GUESS". One little word, just five little letters, so understated, yet at the same time so provocative, so inviting, so desirable. Unfortunately for me, this one little word sewn onto the back right pocket also meant that these otherwise-plain jeans were also very expensive.
aaaaLet me explain here that I was decidedly not one of the cool kids. Although I had some slight awareness of major fashion trends (like the jeans), I had no real idea how to apply them to myself in the selection and wearing of my own clothes. I had no idea how to talk to boys (or even many girls my age, for that matter), and preferred reading to sports any day of the week. Not only that, I lived, very literally, on the wrong side of the tracks in my somewhat provincial town, and while my father's middle-class income provided well enough for our family, Guess jeans were not exactly in the budget. That didn't stop me from wanting them, though. I was convinced that a pair of Guess jeans would buy me membership in the club of popular kids, those golden children who somehow seemed to have moved from childhood to adolescence without the slightest bit of awkwardness, who, at the age of 13, already had impeccable social skills, never got acne, could charm students and teachers alike with ease, excelled in every academic subject and extra-curricular activity they tried, and knew how to dress and, in the case of the girls, put on make-up like seasoned starlets. I reasoned that even if the jeans didn't instantly propel me to popularity, they'd at least force those in the cool club to take notice of me--notice I desperately wanted. Yes, having the upside-down red triangle on my rear right cheek would single me out as someone worthy of their acquaintance.
aaaaFor months I studiously saved my hard-earned babysitting money so I could buy the jeans. I went to the mall to select the pair I wanted, tried them on for size, and checked from time-to-time to be sure they were still in-stock and selling at the same price. I told no one of my plan.
aaaaAt long last, the big day arrived. I counted and double-counted my money: exactly 50 dollars plus tax of hard-earned cash. I had my mom drop me off at the mall, headed for the department store where my precious jeans, my ticket to coolness, were waiting. I went directly to the display table, picked up my jeans, and strode confidently to the cash register to pay for them. I left the mall feeling slightly giddy, full of the rush that always came with buying new clothes, as well as the anticipation of the reaction of my fellow students when I showed up at school on Monday, wearing my new jeans.
aaaaMonday morning arrived. I donned the jeans. I don't remember what I wore with them, though I'm sure I spent considerable time planning the outfit. I felt smugly conspicuous as I walked through the halls, certain that everyone was checking out the inverted red triangle on my backside as I passed. Surely all the students, whether royalty or serf, were taking notice of me, talking about my new Guess jeans and the status they conferred upon me. It was just a matter of time before the cool kids would start saying hello to me in the halls and inviting me to sit with them at lunch. I mean, they had to, right? After all, wearing Guess jeans meant that I was cool too. Didn't it?
aaaaYou have probably figured out by now that my would-be magical Guess jeans did not, in fact, have the desired life-altering effects I had predicted. As that Monday at school wore on, I realized that no one but my own friends noticed my new Guess jeans. No one was caught staring in awe at the inverted triangle on my butt as I walked past, no one was overheard pointing me out to their friends in the lunch line as the newest up-and-coming girl in the 8th grade, no popular kids were complimenting me on my outfit or inviting me to their weekend pool parties. I was both disappointed and puzzled. I just couldn't understand what had happened--or failed to happen, actually. How could the jeans not have worked? How could my fool-proof plan have let me down?
aaaaI wish I could say that I had some grand epiphany that day, realizing that there was more to life than being popular, that it didn't matter what people wear because it's what's inside that counts, that my real friends would notice me no matter what jeans I wore, blah, blah, blah, blah. Please. This was not an after-school special. What really happened was that my hopes of being part of the in-crowd were crushed and I was very disappointed. I still loved my Guess jeans--at that price, I couldn't afford not to love them until I died--and consoled myself with the knowledge that owning them meant I really was cool, even if the rest of the cool kids didn't notice it. What I did learn, I suppose, is that 8th graders are fickle. They don't really care if you have a pair of Guess jeans if you don't also have the other accoutrements that ultimately define popularity. They're too oblivious to the masses to notice just one small upside-down red triangle sashaying down the hall on the rear end of someone they've seen every day in passing who always blends into the crowd. Which is why it takes more than just a pair of jeans to make you popular, regardless of your age. So, knowing how slim my chances of success were, why was I so pre-occupied with getting to the top of the adolescent social ladder?
aaaaA few years later I finally figured out the answer to that question. Deep down, I knew that although I was different from those popular kids, I was still every bit as talented, intelligent, and worth knowing as they were. My search for social acceptance ultimately stemmed not from a desire to be their friends, to be part of the cool kids' group, but rather to be just as recognized and well-liked as they were, simply for being myself. Isn't that what we all want, regardless of age? At the end of the day, we want to know that we are valued by others, our jeans notwithstanding, because we are wonderful and smart and talented and fun to be with, and no little red triangle on our rear ends will ever have any affect on that.
aaaaNow that's an epiphany worthy of an after-school special.