Yesterday's frumpy, sweatpants- wearer who wants to be tomorrow's most glamorous fashionista.

The funniest are the group of kids to watch—and yes, you had them in your law school class, too—are the ones that never got invited to the cool table and never got to sit in the back of the bus. But, now! Now things will be different.

The typical would-be-cool-kids believe that they had everything those cool kids did, and it was a horrible miscarriage of social justice that they weren't allowed into the exclusive club. They are determined not to let that happen again. They won't let themselves be pigeon-holed! They are going to be champions in the social arena, and they will be loved by everyone who is not too jealous to notice their distinct awesomeness.

First, though, they need a group, and who better than OTHER former-nerds who now want to be social aristocrats?

I don't know how they find each other...maybe some sort of nerd-radar or proof of a divine sense of humor, but one way or another, a handful of these folks manage to identify each other and ally themselves in their battle to become The Cool Kids of law school.

It works, too!

For a while.

And then, usually a semester or so in, people start to realize that there's something bizarre about The Cool Kids. Nobody can really put a finger on it, but The Cool Kids...they...well...they're not really that cool, are they?

Sure, everyone acknowledges them as being “cool”, they're very exclusive, they have the best parties, and they sure think they're cool...but there's something just below the surface of their personalities...they're sort of boring and nerdy.

Eventually lots of people start to talk about it. The Cool Kids are all exclusive and cliquey, so they're easy targets. All eyes are on them, when the dam of anti-climacticallity bursts: eventually one of them will admit to never really being very cool until they got to law school.

You can't blame that kid, though. It seemed like it would last forever. The Cool Kids thought they actually were cool. It didn't seem like a giant sham, and how could it really hurt to throw a bone to those poor folks who weren't one of The Cool Kids?

Oddly, there doesn't seem to be a standard response, here. If The Cool Kids were generally likeable, and basically nice most of the time, they'll just fade back into the social scenery and their group will cease to be distinguishable from the rest.

If, on the other hand, The Cool Kids were obnoxious, annoying, self-absorbed, or otherwise irritating, they'll generate a lot of ill will, and the moment their classmates realize that they're not The Cool Kids anymore, the fangs will come out.

If there's any moral at all to be taken from The Cool Kids, it's probably that you can only keep up appearances for so long, and after a while under law school's social microscope, you're going to be exposed for exactly who you are, no matter who that is.