Column: Parke is tasteless — let’s move on
Last semester, my philosophy group was discussing Greek life fashion trends after class. We determined that frat culture is characterized by enduring trends — think Barbour jackets and Patagonia vests. It’s pretty easy to spot a frat guy, given that their uniforms have remained constant through the years. However, what it means to dress like a sorority girl is subject to more change, and right now, that means Parke.
If you take a minute to look at the Quad during a class change, you will quickly realize that Parke is everywhere.
Started by Miami -based TikTok influencer Chelsea Parke Kramer, Parke is a recycled denim business. However, surprisingly, the mock neck is the clear driver of sales. It’s a simple design: varsity-style lettering of her middle name, “Parke,” embossed over the chest of an 80/20 cotton-polyester blend sweatshirt. They come in a variety of different colors that fluctuate during each merchandise drop and are priced at $130.
For the uninitiated, it is not clear why people are willing to pay such high prices for a fairly unremarkable sweatshirt.
One of the reasons that the fad is perplexing to a lot of people, myself included, is the generic design. It is one thing to wear high-end athleisure. Brands like Luluemon, Alo and Free People Movement are expensive, but they are also stylistically differentiated and durable pieces of activewear. The Lululemon silhouette is recognizable without the logo. This cannot be said for Parke. Without the brand name, it would be like any run-of-the-mill mock neck. Hell, I could buy a white crewneck from Target and sew on a Parke patch, achieving the same result for about $100 less.
But perhaps the simplistic design and massive lettering are the key to Parke’s success. With TikTok marketing, feminine colors and a clean girl aesthetic, Parke has become intensely sorority-coded at UNC and beyond. And because the lettering is so big, a Parke sweatshirt is an impossible-to-miss signal of in-group status.
The issue with Parke isn’t the sweatshirt itself — it actually might be too boring to take issue with. We’ve already seen brands like Essentials and Aritzia rework the humble sweatshirt into something fancy. Parke is doing the same thing, and it isn’t doing it particularly well — at least Essential hoodies are 100 percent cotton.
Nor is the problem that Parke is synonymous with sororities — who doesn’t love sorority game day outfits? It’s completely normal for groups on campus to follow unofficial dress codes. We know sorority girls can do better simply because they have done better.
But the choice of attire can say a lot about a person. One’s willingness to wear something of poor quality, exorbitant price and aggressive branding indicates what kind of person you are, or what kind of person you want to be perceived as.
My qualm with Parke lies in its heavy-handed branding and lackluster quality. Whether intentionally or not, wearing a Parke sweatshirt advertises that you are willing to pay $130 for cheaply made loungewear — tacky.
If Parke sweatshirts were meaningfully connected to an individual’s personal style, then they would be a good investment. Parke is a confusing and forgettable attempt at luxury loungewear, and it has all the makings of a TikTok fad. Unlike denim on denim, marked by a sorority pin, or frat guys’ Barbour jackets, Parke is transient — and I, for one, won’t be sorry to see it go.