The death of a tradition

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IMG_3612UCLA is rich in its culture and full of traditions.  One such (relatively new) one is the ever-lively Undie Run.  By the time I arrived on campus in the fall of 2004, it was a blossoming tradition that I had heard of, but didn’t really know much about.  I spent my first year hearing the rumors, but not knowing anyone to go with or where to find the gathering, I never tried to join in the festivities.  My second year I returned, eager to find my place and I did so by joining over a dozen organizations on campus.  As I spent my time going from meeting to meeting, social to workshop, I didn’t quite find the bonds I was looking for.  And so in the spring, I opted to pledge for Alpha Kappa Psi, a co-ed business fraternity on campus.  My time was sucked up by that, but I still managed to meet some new friends who were the type to party it up.  In them I found Undie Run enthusiasts, so I prepared myself for my very first participation in such an event.

Blocking off the road.

Blocking off the road.

Undie Run started back in 2002, when some guys who were frustrated by the tight control around finals week, with people not allowed to loiter or participate in Midnight Yell and other such things that restless college students are bound to gravitate towards.  As the quarters went by, it grew exponentially and soon thousands of students would gather together on the Wednesday night of Finals Week, then head off at midnight in a herd of skimpy outfits, going along a route that ultimately led to campus.  It was a great way for students to do something just to let loose a little bit in the midst of the stress that intense studying brings (or for the lucky few, celebrate the end of another quarter).  Once word got around and it grew big enough, the police started to block off the roads and monitor the path to ensure everyone’s safety (what would you do if you were driving just after midnight and a hoard of half-naked 20-somethings were running toward you, completely blocking the road?).  As it become more popular, it began to attract random people from the neighboring areas and even other schools, who would line the route and observe the madness pass before them.

IMG_0389For my first time, in the spring of 2006, I got some cute frilly underwear (black with pink hearts and completely useless as normal underwear with way too much poof) from Urban Outfitters on 3rd street and wore a plain black bra.  We congregated at the bottom of what was known as “Rape Trail” (now Saxon Trail/Steps), right on the road where Landfair meets Gayley.  The closeness of the crowd provided warmth in the cool night as we got ready for our journey.  At some point, the front part of the group began to to scream and run and we all followed suit, flying down Gayley, passing through De Neve Court, continuing down Bruinwalk, then up Bruinwalk, and making our way to the destination at the fountain in front of Powell Library.  (Yes, we like to run scantily-clad and scream and sing right outside the library where students are still studying for finals.)  Along the way, some creepy guys were standing around just staring and a few more were waiting at the end of the run.  There’s always a bit of a downside to everything, right?  Some were taking pictures and video and others were just scanning the crowd.

Splashing around!

Splashing around!

At Shapiro Fountain, we found that somebody had soaped it up before we arrived, so many of us gleefully jumped into the sudsy water and splashed around.  It was warm and slippery and messy and exhilarating all at once!  A few ambitious students managed to climb the trees flanking the fountain while others were hoisted onto their friends’ shoulders for a better view.  It was a scene of blissful mayhem and certainly bizarre to the unsuspecting soul.  Many people in the library paused their studies to come get a glimpse of those brave/insane enough to make it out that night.  There were all kinds of odd costumes and even a few socks-only guys running around, making us seem like some wacky mix between Halloween and Mardi Gras.  In the other runs I did, I saw a girl with pasties and another with a scarf as the only thing covering her top half.  There were a variety of thongs and TMI moments that just added to the hilarity of the event.

Wheeeee!  Fly down that hill!

Wheeeee! Fly down that hill!

We spent a good half hour to hour prancing around that space, dancing to the music provided by those creative enough to bring instruments to play.  Conga lines formed and dispersed and LOTS of pictures were taken.  At some point the police decided that we had had enough fun and began to chase us off, driving towards us and flashing their lights so we’d get moving.  The crowd would reluctantly begin to make its way back to the res halls and apartments on the other side of campus.  Sometimes we would take a pause on the rolling hills by Janss Steps, playing in the grass.  When I went with another group two years later, we did cartwheels and made human pyramids for quite awhile, before rolling down the hill.  Cooling down and calming down, we’d make our way back to the Hill, where much of the population would get Bruin Cafe to eat.  The rest of the crowds disappeared into the apartment area, possibly to continue their drinking, possibly to chill and rest.  Quite a few went right back to studying for a final at 8 AM!

Herding us off.

Herding us off.

Alas, all those good memories came to an end for me just before the university decided to end this de-stressing adrenaline rush.  Due to damage to university property that always seems to happen along with the event (hey, with 10,000 people trampling around, it’s bound to happen), as well as concerns over safety from the increasing numbers of visitors unaffiliated with UCLA who show up on those nights.  I’m sad to hear this decision, since it was always a hilariously fun event for me, though I kind of saw it coming with the route changes they kept making and the tighter and tighter restrictions imposed.  The university has been threatening to shut the operation down for a long time now and I guess it finally plucked up the courage.  But as the founders of the tradition say, the police can’t arrest you for running around in your underwear at night unless you are vandalizing property or being a public (usually drunk) nuisance.  So perhaps they will be forced to allow Undie Run to persist in some fashion or another, because if they don’t work with the students, they will just find another way.  Only time will tell now.

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