Sometimes, it's more than just a cooler

On my walks to Lilly Library on many a morning during spring semester, I saw plenty of my female classmates in groups of three or four hunched over standard-size beverage coolers, painting intricate, gorgeous designs on the cooler’s sides. At Duke and many other southern universities, the final weeks of the spring semester bring fraternity formals—weekend-long away trips where brothers and their dates spend the weekend celebrating the end of the academic year. Women often paint designs, including Greek letters and the logos of companies like Vineyard Vines or Budweiser, on a standard drink cooler as a thank-you gift to her date. They look amazing, with personalized interpretations of the Blue Moon logo, the Patagonia logo, and other original designs.

I was unfamiliar with the tradition prior to coming to Duke; the largely Southern tradition escaped me growing up in the Northeast. Curious about how Duke students felt about the tradition, I posted an anonymous survey asking people’s opinion on the fraternity formal coolers on my class’s Facebook page and the “All Duke” page, stating I wanted to write a Chronicle article about them.

The survey led to interesting results. Roughly three-quarters of respondents were women, the rest men. The topic raised a wide range of opinions that spoke to social culture at Duke as a whole. The tradition, for some, is sexist, based on stereotypes of women’s domesticity and artistic ability. Others found it a perfectly acceptable as a fun way for dates to contribute to the formal weekend, which can cost a brother hundreds of dollars to attend. One point was made clear: the formal cooler is more than just a cooler for many at Duke.

One can imagine the amount of time it takes to make one of these coolers between sanding the cooler smooth, priming it, making up designs and painting and sealing them on the cooler. A woman could easily spend upwards of 100 dollars on supplies and stocking the cooler with alcohol, which is another common part of the tradition. The huge amount of time, money and effort expended in decorating a cooler seems, to many of the survey respondents, to create a sense of competition between women to have the best cooler and the best alcohol. Illustratively, one unaffiliated woman noted, "I felt obligated to [make a cooler] because I'm not in a sorority, as if I had to prove myself worthy of being taken to formal."

The origin of the pressures some women feel on formal weekends is another question. Interestingly, not a single male respondent said he felt that he was "owed" a cooler--or a hookup, for that matter--for asking his date on the weekend. One affiliated male respondent said he felt the cooler tradition was "ridiculous" because it involved "additional, unnecessary expenses." Another said, "I stressed to my date that [she] did not need to make me a cooler if she did not want to." While I would be remiss to say the results of my unscientific survey were representative of all fraternity dates, it's clear that not all men "require" their dates make them a cooler.

A sizable portion of female respondents agreed that making the cooler was a fun way to enhance the weekend. One Greek-affiliated woman noted that she found taking time to decorate the cooler was a refreshing change of pace to hectic Duke life and a meaningful way to thank her boyfriend for the weekend.

And oftentimes, the fraternity men are very grateful for their date's efforts. Formal weekend is a major occasion for many brothers, a relaxing end to an exhausting year. And when they receive a beautifully decorated cooler from date, they feel that all the planning and money contributed by themselves and the fraternity to the weekend is appreciated. Even for dates that are only acquaintances, the cooler can serve as pre-formal bonding, a time where the date can learn about the brother's hobbies, interests and favorite snacks and drinks.

One could chalk the cooler tradition up to a host of questionable societal institutions: sexism, effortless perfection, elitism and even racism. They could also simply call it a memento of a fun weekend. Considering all this, I found myself wondering what singular statement I could make about the coolers, what tidy conclusion I could make about their merits or vices. And the only one I could come to? That it depends. Consent is important in various activities in college, and cooler painting is no exception. One responder put it well: "If [making the cooler] is consensual and mutually beneficial, then it is okay." All things considered, it's clear that, in some cases, a cooler isn't just a cooler, and in more ways than one. And in others, a cooler is simply a letter-adorned, pastel, lacquered memento of an enjoyable weekend.