When I was in college I used to hang out at one of two bars during my freshman year. Really, that paints a pretty diverse picture when the reality was that 98% of my time was spent at one bar. The Greenery, aka The Cheese, so named because it was so cheesy. I recall weeks where I quite literally went to The Greenery 7 days a week. They served beer to people who were underage, had a cheap cover if you had to pay a cover at all and had a dance floor where I could dance to all the Boom-Boom and Bubblegum I desired.

In the post-grunge days during which I went to The Greenery, my typical attire consisted of some tight-ass jeans and a teeny tank. This was year-round, mind you. When it was cold I took one of my flannels – remember, this was post-grunge so I had a lot of flannel sitting around – and threw it over my outfit. As soon as I entered the sweaty meat market of the Greenery, the flannel was promptly tied around my waist. This way, see, I could display cleavage year-round. Sadly, while this worked in theory, I had no cleavage to show so really I was just showing off my collarbone. It’s a nice one.

As I progressed through college I became aware that the older students didn’t paint on their clothing. In fact, by wearing snug but not spandex-like clothing, they were better able to display their bodies in a way that was sexy but not slutty. (After all, the great girl dilemma in trying to dress in a way to pick up men is finding that careful balance between sexy and straight-up ho.) Even after, thanks to four years of drinking lots of beer, eating a fair share of Goodfellas and Mother Nature, I finally got cleavage, I still managed to be slightly more discreet with the show than my freshman self would have encouraged.

Last night I went to a Guster concert at Bogart’s, near the University of Cincinnati. Guster, though having started playing music before I began college, attracts a definite younger crowd. I am talking people in college and even quite a few still working their way through high school. While it’s slightly unsettling to realize I like the same music as these people I refer to as kids, they make for fabulous people-watching.

I saw leggings and skinny jeans in full force and done well. I saw girls wearing empire-waisted tops without looking knocked up. And I saw girls wearing tops that defied the slush and ice outside. These tops tread a careful balance of containing bosoms and displaying them in all their glory. I saw cleavage that harkened images of the Grand Canyon. Cleavage you could lose your money in. Amazing cleavage. Cleavage my freshmen self would have been jealous of and would have proudly displayed in winter months as soon as the flannel was tied around my waist.

This post originally appeared on Kate’s Point of View. © Kate. All rights reserved.