FULLABALOO | How to become Tulane ‘That Girl’

Miss Thing 1 and Miss Thing 2, Contributing Writers

This article is entirely satire. All information and interviews below are fictional and for entertainment purposes only.

For all the girlypops wondering what it takes to be popular at Tulane, look no further. (Kat Morris)

Have you ever thought to yourself, “Wow. It’s impossible to look like all of these Gigi Hadid body doubles that have already had a nose job and haven’t eaten anything but a salad in years, other than pasta from Josephine Estelle?” Well, you’re in luck. Us too! 

Clocking in right at a clean 5 feet 4 inches with the thighs of a fantastic high school softball catcher, the insecurities run rampant. The hourly wage of our campus jobs — the fact that we have jobs in the first place makes every Kappa want to give us DIY hysterectomies — is nowhere near enough to afford a closet stuffed with Dolls Kill, Reformation and whatever way-too-expensive Los Angeles boutique we don’t know about because we’re broke Southerners. 

If you’re curious about how to become Tulane’s “That Girl,” look no further. 

Do substances!

Move over, D.A.R.E. program! We all know the key to being “That Girl” at Tulane is a healthy drug habit. And we’re not just talking a little weed here and there — everybody has already tried Jake from Mo 6’s edibles, and they don’t work. 

If you aren’t regularly using at least two drugs that are a Schedule II or higher, I’m sorry, but you’re simply not “That Girl.” Oxy. Regularly. Coke. Daily. Whip-its are a classic staple of the Tulane “That Girl,” notorious for really boosting the capabilities of that beautiful brain that allegedly got you here in the first place. If you aren’t ready for that, a Juul or any other e-cig will do just fine. We’ve heard the one with the pretty ombre design makes your boobs get perkier. 

You might be wondering, “where can I get my hands on this stuff?” No worries, we’ve got you covered. Just talk to any local fraternity member, scope Broadway Street after a busy weekend or just fiend off of everyone at every party you attend during your four years here. People love that. 

If you get into something a little less enjoyable, Narcan is available at these locations in New Orleans. A Tulane “That Girl” stays safe — but remember, it’s not alcoholism until you graduate.

You care! Sort of …

Here’s the thing: the Tulane “That Girl” is intimately aware that there is grave injustice in this world. The climate crisis continues to threaten the lives of billions with little action on any front. Wage inequality is at a staggering high, and gas prices look like your high school valedictorian’s GPA. And she’s raising awareness! 

Her Instagram story has infographics that she did not do any further research on; she posts her Bora Bora vacation pictures on Earth Day; she wears vegan Dr. Martens; she only orders UberEats if the car is electric, and she bullies people for using plastic straws. If she’s feeling extra nice, she’ll use that eyes watering emoji that any sane person would never use and include something along the lines of “come on, guys!” 

She’s doing the work! But c’mon, that Dolls Kill top is so cute! And she would never, ever do a SHEIN haul. For less than $300. And then sell what didn’t fit in the Tulane Thrift GroupMe and mark up the price. 

You know what it means to love New Orleans! Well, parts of it: 

The Tulane “That Girl” is so engaging on social media, posting every cute graphic about New Orleans she sees on her Instagram Explore page. She posts every single day of Mardi Gras — wearing those two-piece sets from Amazon complete with hair tinsel and expensive white sneakers she is, for some reason, not afraid to destroy in a frat house backyard — but never goes to a parade. 

What a brave choice, to celebrate a cultural holiday with at least one “MARDI PARDI” caption without so much as an ounce of respect for its history! And she won’t remember a wink, because of all of those Schedule II drugs mixed with vodka crans. 

The Tulane “That Girl” calls New Orleans home after half a semester — that hummus from Shaya just swept her right off of her feet. Fear not! Although she’ll openly call the Crescent City her home, she won’t volunteer around the city unless it’s required by her Service Learning class. And donating? Definitely not. 

Remember when we got kicked off of campus for COVID-19? The “That Girls” were reposting that adorable “I Love You, New Orleans” graphic, even though they only ever left Uptown to go cause problems in the French Quarter. She put the “I Love You, Louisiana” design on her story while Hurricane Ida wreaked havoc on the city, following it with an oversaturated beach picture — with free feet? Ew. — captioned “Hurrication!” 

You can tell she’s passionate about just the part of New Orleans that goes from Yulman Stadium straight down to The Fly. You’ll hear her stance on education and poverty in the South — hint: everyone is just stupid and poor! — when it comes up in any given communications course. 

You’re from the Northeast!

Daring to be different from your two friends named Rachel and your three friends named Julia, you decided to go to college in the South. Everyone else from your graduating class probably picked Rutgers University or Pennsylvania State. But you? Your parents paid over $80,000 this year for you to develop more gastrointestinal problems and a fixation on mimosas. How brave of you! 

But, this change of scenery doesn’t come without its complications. Sure, you’ll down any vat put in front of you. But the bagel situation? Dire, to say the least. You won’t touch the Commons bagels unless it’s an absolute emergency, and even then, you will complain as it goes down. 

And yes, the weather is lovely. But somehow, once it gets below 60 and there’s a slight drizzle, all of your Northern cold resistance leaves your body. “It’s just not the same type of cold,” you cry as you reminisce on the subzero winters you experienced from ages 0 to 18 — sometimes even in Vail, Colorado. 

Where is that energy now? You see, it simmered too long and became anger. Every time the really kind girl from Mississippi on “That Girl’s” floor puts on a jacket and so much as makes a comment about the temperature, she erupts: “This?! You think THIS is cold? Try being from Hunterdon, the richest county in New Jersey according to Wikipedia.” Or however they talk. 

Claw clip. 

We will not elaborate further. 

Covertly fuel your friends’ disordered eating patterns! 

Don’t you think Tulane replacing Panera, a nutritious option offering actual meals, with Dunkin’ Donuts, a coffee-predominant establishment, is a problem! “No,” the Tulane “That Girl” exclaims as she complains in the Le Gourmet line about white rice being “so much unhealthier” than brown rice. 

To “That Girl,” an iced coffee is breakfast. Humble Bagel is her special treat on weekends when she’s super hungover after a night of telling her friends, “I’m just not gonna eat, so I’ll get drunk faster.” But once the girlies walk out, bagels in hand, she’ll make sure everyone hears her say, “how am I supposed to eat ALL of this? There are so many carbs.” And her one pre-med friend will remember that Dr. V, notorious CELL 1010 demigod, always says that carbohydrates are your brain’s preferred source of energy. 

But it doesn’t matter! “That Girl” is sticking with a salad-only lineup at the Commons, and she’s going to make it everyone’s problem. 

Be rich and also ignorant! 

If you find yourself complaining about the PJ’s milk-to-chai-concentrate ratio, and then proceed to order a chai latte nearly every day without fail as more WaveBucks magically appear in your student account, you’re well on your way to being “That Girl.” 

Start using the word “summer” as a verb. We’ll use it in a sentence: “I summer in the Cape, where my family has an oceanfront mansion with a private beach. I used to go to Camp Dahdee Smoney though. Where do you summer?” 

She might come to Tulane as a psychology major on the pre-med track, but she’s dropping after her first week of Gen Chem I and switching to communications. 

Her Instagram might be thoughtfully crafted with pictures of a Friday afternoon spent disrespecting locals at The Fly and dinner from Jack Rose, but it’s noticeably littered with evidence of her having attended every darty ever. Especially if foam is present. 

She wears sneakers that come already looking beat up but cost more than a student employee at Tulane makes in a semester. Bonus points if there’s a nose job involved — your deviated septum doesn’t count. 

You value the simple things!

At the end of the day, it really is about the little things for a Tulane “That Girl.” Getting in that midday workout on the stairmaster in the Reily Student Recreation Center and wearing that Aviator Nation matching set while doing it. 

It’s drinking water from your Hydro Flask and dropping it in the middle of your 150-person lecture class. It’s sunbathing on the LBC quad in a jarringly expensive bikini the minute it’s above 70 degrees and sunny. It’s complaining about the fact that the men that go here are below 6 feet tall when you yourself are 5 foot 1. 

So get out and post that beautiful sunset on Snapchat and know you’re nothing short of, well, “That Girl.”