Flip flops and loungewear: the essentials of college living. At least that’s the sentiment of a new trend of temporary stores rapidly encroaching on campuses across the country. Brands such as Havainas and Victoria’s Secret’s Pink are gradually establishing their presence on college campuses from the University of Arizona to the University of Alabama, promoting brand loyalty among young consumers.

Shops such as these emerge temporarily, reap monumental profits at the expense of local businesses and school shops, then dissolve back into the outlet malls from whence they came.

Sure, they generally let the schools that host them nibble on the table scraps, but often at the expense of educational and community interests.

According to a recent article in the Wall Street Journal, Victoria’s Secret’s Pink profited $20,000 in a single day at Penn State University in the 2007-2008 school year. A division of L’Oreal boasts profits from their “ministores” on campuses similar to those of traditional stores. Sales are only expected to accelerate as stores expand to more and more colleges.

Have campus communities so thoroughly decomposed as to invite such an obvious intrusion? What precedent is being set here?

Today it’s just a few t-shirts and sandals, operating in harmony with the campus bookstore and offering freedom of choice to students.

A few years from now, how permissive will we be?

Will we rent out buildings to these businesses, perhaps allow them to advertise in our libraries, perhaps subsidize our cafeterias to Taco Bell, our bookstores to Barnes and Noble?

Maybe Founders Hall should be expanded to include room for a Hollister and an Orange Julius as well.

If these companies are allowed to expand as they intend, colleges and universities across the nation will be reduced to little more than brick-paved open air malls.

Kiosks hocking overpriced sunglasses and skin cream will suck the vitality of student culture straight from the neck.

The vampiric lust of these brands will quickly deplete the already moth-ridden pockets of students, and having grubbed every dollar possible, the temporary ventures will wave goodbye, their own pockets bulging.

Permitting temporary stores to infiltrate our campuses may seem immediately lucrative to the school, but will ultimately only serve to pierce the heart of campus unity.

I dare not deny that allowing our campuses to be commercialized brings the potential of revenue that can be devoted to student groups. The problem lies in where our lines are drawn.

The college culture has thus far been relatively insulated from the consumer culture. These shops are a blatant exploitation of our culture, opening the door for the wholesale