It's that time of year again, Greeks! The new members are getting initiated, block proposals are occurring on a weekly basis and the Oval preachers are emerging in full force. As another school year comes to a close, so does another year of being a collegiate Greek. Of all of the end-of-the-year activities, composite pictures are by far one of the most equally important and annoying aspects of being Greek.

These tiny little portraits of each member of the chapter hang proudly on the walls of our facilities as reminders of days of yore. As we graduate, our tenure in these organizations is encapsulated in three or four of them, a reminder of the styles of our undergraduate years and our brothers and sisters that made these years and our time in these organizations so wonderful. This all sounds like rainbows and flowers. However, I can’t say taking this yearly portrait is the easiest endeavor.

For guys, blazer-clad and attempting to hide the fact that they'd rather be doing anything else, these portraits are a breeze, and can even be funny.

Exhibit A:

Exhibit B:

Exhibit C:

For most fraternities, composites become hidden treasures in their houses; often an artifact that girls may wish to confiscate for their own use.

For girls, composites are a bit more complicated than putting on chapter garb and smiling for the camera. Composite day is an interesting dichotomy of looking fabulous and terrible at the same time. We get dolled up and draped in pearls while wearing a black wrap similar to a napkin you'd find at a fancy restaurant, we “smize” like Tyra Banks and channel our inner Kate Middleton posture.

Sounds like a recipe for a successful, beautiful picture, right? Wrong. We are usually dissatisfied with the pictures we've taken. Rarely is a girl into her composite photo. The angles are never our "good sides" and the lighting — despite being professional — never seems to do us the justice it should. Somehow, glamorous women given all the resources to take beautiful pictures immediately pout after picking their portrait, huffing to their sisters about how “spudly” they looked.

To give a play by play of how things that look so glamorous in person seem to go so wrong, the weather never seems to be doing us any favors. Be it humidity, rain or gusting winds, we seem to have the worst luck with mother nature harassing us as we toddle to our houses in hopes that we can salvage the beatification we worked so hard on and that was instantly destroyed in the treacherous commute.

We get to the house and fill out paperwork to get emailed these pictures that our moms will order despite our pleas to just let it be for once. Then, it happens. After a brief wait in line with our equally reluctant sisters, it’s our turn to take these series of pictures, each with an 80 percent chance of being less than desired. Let it be known, the quality and photographer have nothing to do with our hatred of these pictures. It is simply our faces in these pictures and the angle that never seems quite right: all faults of our own.

So it’s over. I’ve put on the dinner napkin and pearls, taken the five shots, picked the best of the worst, and have concluded another year of composites. Time to move on and forget about how we’ve failed to take an elegant picture once again. Maybe just be a Rho Gamma so PNMs don't have to see our potato picture on the composites during house tours.