It all started with a hat.
“Then we added the capri pants,” Michael Starr said.
“They’re actually capri scrubs,” corrected Justin Boogaard, glancing down at his neatly hemmed rendition of the uniform.
The two first-years, along with first-year student Aza Steel, are popularly referred to as “the Compliment Guys,” a name that stems from their habit of spewing personalized praise to passersby on Bruin Walk from 12-2 p.m. each Monday.
Armed with socks, scrubs, shirts and capes, whose hues were inspired by a cap Starr discovered at Westwood’s Thank You Mart, the squad doles out compliments and high fives to hundreds of Bruins without discrimination during their weekly shift.
“The biggest question we get is, “˜Why are you doing this?'” said Steel, an undeclared student who is considering a career involving technology and entrepreneurship. “People just assume we’re from some organization, usually frats.”
Although they are not associated with an official organization, the Compliment Guys are a fraternal band indeed.
The trio met at summer orientation, and Boogaard and Steel hopped on the compliment bandwagon after Starr unearthed an online video of compliment-givers at Purdue University and decided to launch a compliment corps of his own.
“It’s scary,” said Boogaard, a business economics student, of tossing affirmations to strangers. “But it’s great. We’ve really evolved socially. I’ve lost all shame.”
The group most commonly compliments T-shirts or eyes and, as Steel says, falls back on high fives when praise doesn’t come to mind speedily enough or crowds are overwhelming.
“Justin compliments jaw structures,” Starr, a linguistics and Spanish student, said. “And hands. It’s kind of weird.”
Most of the student population, however, seems to have embraced this weirdness with ease.
“Those guys are hilarious,” said fourth-year business economics student Molly McGlone. “I don’t think I would’ve been so willing to put myself out there as a first-year at this big school.”
First-year biology student Caitlin Marsh said a high five never fails to kick some oomph into her dorm-bound trek from class each Monday.
“Their little red capes make me laugh,” Marsh said. “And I get kind of amped after a good high five.”
Steel, who DJs and designs T-shirts when not complimenting, said high fives can entail more than meets the eye.
The “double high five,” in which one Compliment Guy slaps the hands of two strangers at once, gives the students a common experience that often ignites a spontaneous conversation that wouldn’t regularly have taken place.
“It’s an involuntary bonding experience,” Steel said. “UCLA is very fragmented. People are isolated in their social groups, and there isn’t much mingling. When we give compliments, it’s one of the few times people are receiving something just for being a student.”
Starr sees a broader meaning to the crew’s venture, too. He said he envisions a world where praise is substituted for icy stares, an aim he aspires to make reality via giving compliments.
“It’d be so cool if everyone, instead of walking down the street with their heads down, smiled and said, “˜Hey! I like your eyes!'” Starr said.
Boogaard said he wouldn’t mind adopting more compliment-givers to help achieve this dream, adding that aspiring Compliment Guys should connect with Starr on Facebook.
“I’d love it if our group grew,” he said. “I want everyone to experience what I’m feeling.”
With June quickly approaching, students have inquired if the Compliment Guys will be continuing their antics in the future.
The answer is simple, according to Starr.
“I didn’t spend 35 bucks on an outfit to do this for just one year,” he said, grinning as he donned the hat that started it all.