Essay: The Meaning of a Reunion Jacket

My first encounter with the bestowal of the Princeton reunion jacket was at my father’s 25th reunion in May 1989. When my dad checked in at the tent in Mathey courtyard, flanked by his family, he was given the most unattractive and poorly constructed orange and black plaid blazer, along with a matching skirt in an unflattering mid-calf length for my mother. I was 15 and college seemed quite far off, so the disappointment in the design wasn’t personal, but I did begin to pay attention to the patterns and styles chosen by other Princeton classes.

One that caught my eye was the custom fabric designed by the Class of 1963 bearing all the names of their classmates in a striped pattern. They didn’t just have jackets made, they fabricated full suits — along with vests and skirts (in the same unflattering length) for the wives. Other notable designs included the black and white plaid jackets with orange lapels worn by the Class of 1920, the tigers weaving in and out of vertical stripes in the 1939 design, and the light orange fabric with stylized cream colored “61”s creating the design of the Class of 1961’s jacket fabric.

In the world outside of the Orange Bubble, the reunion jacket might be considered a peculiar item of clothing, but for a Princetonian, it is an outward symbol of shared history and traditions commemorated in a single, unique design.

Often, the first time a newly minted Princetonian sees such a jacket is when the president of the Alumni Association, proudly wearing their class’s design, takes to the steps of Clio Hall to teach the new freshman class the locomotive and leads them in the singing of “Old Nassau” for the first time. For the Class of ’95, as with classes before us, the surprise, delight and, yes, sometimes disappointment of the reveal of the jacket designs of other classes happened mostly in the background while we were preoccupied with our own reunion activities. But by our 20th, we were paying attention, realizing that we would be receiving our jackets at our next reunion. Background conversations fired up immediately — “ours needs to be distinctive,” “it can’t be hot,” “it should be classic,” “it should be wild”… . Opinions as diverse as the members of our class buzzed around all weekend. We all anticipated the moment we would wear our own jackets in the monumental celebration of a quarter-century of life beyond Princeton, and the design needed to be just right.

Somehow, I landed a place on the small but mighty jacket committee, not entirely sure how I would contribute but eager to be a part of the process. The goal of any class jacket committee is to do the impossible: come up with a design that is liked by all classmates, has style, is comfortable and flattering, isn’t too cheesy nor too bland, and unites a class. Our group of six, representing different viewpoints, regions, and backgrounds, accepted the daunting challenge. We came together with varied experience and skills but all with an eye for design and a desire to create something meaningful that the entire class would be proud to wear.

Iconic pieces of the Princeton landscape, including Blair Arch and Oval with Points, grace the Class of 1995’s jacket.

Courtesy of Megan Wellford Grinder ’95

We started working several years before our 25th reunion and aspired to design a jacket that would reflect both the spirit of Princeton as well as the varied interests and personalities within our class. With this in mind, we shared ideas via Slack, sending images of past jackets, prints with tigers or tiger imagery, interesting fabrics, and other inspiration that caught our eyes. A direction was coalescing, but nothing we pulled together quite expressed what we wanted. I decided to get busy with my watercolors, painting four tigers that had the movement, energy, and playful spirit we’d been trying to manifest. The tails of two of these tigers formed the number “95” so that our jackets would be easily identified as belonging to our class. These tigers seemed to strike the right note with the committee.

Years earlier as a sophomore, I had made the fairly impractical decision to major in visual arts and art history, and I have spent much of my post-graduate life as a portrait painter and working artist. Who knew that this choice, made partially because I would be able to paint my thesis rather than write it, would lead me to this point in time with some helpful skills?

We first layered the four painted tigers with a background of road stripes as we aimed to tie in the “I-95: The Journey” theme of our 25th, but when one committee member made the suggestion to include images of some of Princeton’s iconic buildings and sculptures instead, we all felt that was a better direction. With input from the committee, I added some ivy for softening, design cohesion, and symbolism (a reference to the tradition of each class planting ivy at the base of Nassau Hall at graduation. Supposedly, as the ivy grows and prospers, a class grows and prospers).

As we worked on the finishing details — carefully chosen orange trim, the enamel buttons, contrasting black gros-grain lapel, custom lining, embroidery and interior labels — we envisioned ourselves donning the jackets while checking into the Whitman College site of our 25th reunion, surrounded by old friends and classmates. This scenario did not come to pass as COVID-19 hit the world, and Princeton, along with so much else, shut down. Instead of gathering together in May 2020 to see the jackets in person for the first time, the jackets were sent by mail. This was not the 25th reunion we had planned, but it was the one we got at a time in which life was upended in so many ways, with tragedies far greater than a missed reunion.

Yet, the disappointment of not being able to wear the jackets in person quickly turned into delight over a new form of connection. As classmates received their jackets, they shared pictures of themselves wearing them on social media, tagging others, and reminiscing about old times. This remote distribution became a way to reconnect, even from a distance, and the jacket took on a new significance. It was no longer just about the design or the fabric, it was a symbol of unity in a time of isolation and a tangible reminder of a milestone collectively reached, even if not commemorated in person. Our 25th reunion and initial jacket reveal might not have unfolded as we imagined, but it didn’t diminish the bond we share as a class.

Reflecting on the meaning of the jacket now, as we convene to celebrate our 30th reunion, I recognize that the Class of 1995 blazer is a testament to our class’s creativity, playfulness, and resilience and signifies the enduring bonds of community and the ways we show up for one another. It is a symbol of our shared history and accomplishments. We may have chosen different roads after walking through FitzRandolph Gate, each experiencing different twists, turns, and bumps along the way, but those choices have led us back together. As we gather in person for our 30th reunion, we celebrate not just the 30 years that have passed since graduation but the journey that continues — “Refueled” and ready for whatever comes next!