We have received about 80 catalogues this summer selling dorm “essentials” and I see that things have changed a bit since I went off to college in 1984.

I thought the ’80s were supposedly the decade of greed, and the rotten economy right now is supposedly dictating simpler living. If so, why have the expectations for dorm rooms grown so much?

When I went off to college, I packed up my clothes and my music and a little black-and-white portable TV, and not too much else.

When we got to my dorm, my parents and I decided I needed some extra shelves, so we bought one of those cheap plastic shelving units. I popped it together, hung my clothes in the closet, put my new bedspread on the bed, taped a few snapshots to the wall, and as far as I was concerned, I was moved in.

My daughter and I have looked at a few of the catalogues, and I think the ad people must have gone to a different college than the one I attended and where my daughter will go.

The dorm rooms pictured in these ads are quite a bit bigger than any I’ve ever seen. They feature enough matching furniture and fabulous accessories to fill up not only your kid’s first dorm room, but first apartment, as well.

One of these catalogues contained a checklist of dorm “essentials” that contained hundreds of items. No way would half that stuff fit into a dorm room.

Do you remember how small dorm rooms really are? I sure do.
Some of my friends had homemade lofts made of two-by-fours bolted together so they could use the floor space beneath their beds for their desks. By doing this they could gain enough room for a nice stereo system and possibly a ratty old sofa.

These were always the rooms with the best parties. (Note to self: Do not let my daughter put up a loft bed.)

I was once so desperate for just a little space and variety that I removed my closet door, propped it flat against the wall, and moved the head of my bed into the closet. Sure, I had a weird view of clothing hanging above my head, but I gained a few square feet of precious floor space.

The best part was, it freed up extra room for parties. (Note to self: Do not tell my daughter about this.)

Some others converted their beds to bunk beds so they could each benefit from the extra floor space. Almost everybody tried some similar trick, seeking to transform a room smaller than their bathroom at home into somehow seeming less like a sardine can into which two strangers had to learn to co-exist.

But in truth, there’s no getting away from the fact that most dorm rooms are so small that when you and your roommate go to bed, you could reach your hands across the room and touch fingertips.

And all the color-coordinated pillows, posters, shelves, bulletin boards and lava lamps in the world are not going to change that.

For most college freshmen today, sharing a dorm room is the first time
they’ve shared a bedroom with anybody. Most will not have learned to share a room with a sibling, and it’s an adjustment.

Especially if one side of the dorm room contains a fortune in cool dorm
“necessities” and the other side contains plain old stuff.

Or worse -- what if one roommate has gone crazy and has bought 50 matching Hello Kitty accessories and the other has chosen a nice death metal music motif?

I think I liked the Greedy ’80s better.

Michelle Teheux may be reached at mteheux@pekintimes.com.