Clothing and Hairstyles of Ancient Greece & Macedonia

 

Clothing and Hairstyles in ancient Macedonia

(this is a repost of something from 2019 that disappeared) 

 

 Ancient Greek and Macedonian clothing was relatively simple, in terms of not requiring much stitching. It usually amounted to a large, rectangular piece of cloth that was then folded, pinned, and tied in various ways.

Women wore one of two primary garmets: the peplos (both left below) or the khiton (sometimes chiton, both right below, Ionic-style). The choice was more regional than one of personal preference. In Macedonia, most women would wear the peplos. A peplos was secured by long pins (with protective endpiece) while the khiton was secured by fibulai, which amounted to safety pins (bee fibula, left).

 

For men, there’s just the khiton really, either shorter (above knees, below left, Macedonian) or longer (mid-calf). In Macedonia, men may also have worn a long-sleeved version (below right).

 

Greeks also had “outer-wear.” First, the himation (not to be confused with a toga). It could be worn over a long men’s khiton, or alone (as below left); it’s sort of the ancient Greek version of a suit, more formal than a khiton. Women also wore the himation, especially outdoors. When raised over her head (below right), it was called “Aphrodite’s tortoise,” as she symbolically carried her “house” on her body (concealing her from the gaze of non-familial males).

 

Men might also wear a short cloak outdoors, the khlamys, especially associated with soldiers and men traveling . See the hunters below; the one on the left is identified as Alexander himself. And no, nobody really hunted naked; that’s “heroizing.” Notice also Alexander’s hat. That’s the petasos, a floppy, straw sunhat worn against the unforgiving solar glare of Greece.

 

Sandals came in a wide variety; there was even a “sandal boot” common to cavalrymen, et al. (See top left image below, or statue of man’s short khiton up above.) Additional sandal styles:

 

Finally, hair. Most of the men in the novel wear their hair short, following a style borrowed from soldiers and athletes. But Hephaistion wears his long, after a fashion among boys in Athens (see image on the pot below), but also among young men and even adults of the Archaic Age. I present you with … the ancient Greek mullet!

 

Despite what comic-book films would have you believe, fighting with long hair down may look lucious, but is pretty much impossible if you want to be able to see (and so, stay alive)—why most militaries insist that women (or men) with long hair keep it up. So also in ancient Greece. Hephaistion is described as wearing it braided in a crown around his head. Costume designer Ann Patricia demonstrates how that might work:

As for women’s styles, these varied a great deal. I’d like to point to the experimental archaeology of Janet Stephens, who pursues her love of figuring out hair designs in ancient statuary. Most of her work is not Greek, but of particular interest might be the Classical Greek chigon and Aphrodite’s Knot. Finally, the Sakkos, which Kleopatra is described as wearing once she’s old enough to be married off. The last video explains how ancient hair nets were made, and demonstrates weaving techniques on a small scale, for those interested. She then shows how to put the sakkos on the hair. (The model, incidentally, is wearing a peplos.)

 

 

Who Would Alexander the Great Be Today?

 

This post originally answered a query on my Tumblr account, not reproduced here as it was long. But the answer was fun, so I'm sharing it more widely on my blog. The query involved how Alexander [and Hephaistion] would manage if they time traveled to the modern world.

Yes, I think they’d be able to fit in…eventually. There would be a lot of future shock. And no, modern Greek is not that similar; they’d be able to read it before understanding it spoken. 2000 years is a long time in language development. And--depending on where he/they showed up--it could take some while for them to understand what had happened, or for the people around them to identify who they were.

Arriving in the future in the middle of, say, Thessaloniki would be pretty different from landing in modern Bagdad, or Mexico City, or Moscow, or Podunk Middle America. It could be fun to land them somewhere obscure: the middle of Siberia with one of the Samoyed peoples? Or Pine Ridge Indian Reservation? Or somewhere not at all Western: how about the city of Jieshou (界首市) in Anhui, east China? Can you imagine how hard it would be for the locals to figure out what language they were speaking?

It could be quite interesting, putting him/them with a people who were conquered or oppressed. Alexander goes from King of (almost) his known world to living with a Rohingya family from Myanmar forced to flee to Bangladesh, or a Kurdish family in Turkey, or a Darfurian family in West Sudan, or among the Yanomami people of Brazil. Etc., etc.

Hmmm. What lessons…what lessons he could learn....

Wouldn’t it be interesting if the man who conquered so many came back to defend the oppressed?

Aside from where he landed, Alexander’s reaction would probably depend on whether he was alone or with Hephaistion. If he were alone, he’d still be grieving Hephaistion, and now grieving for the loss of everything familiar too. I could see his initial reaction being to retreat and make good on his supposed, “If I weren’t Alexander, I’d be Diogenes” line. How long that would last, I don’t know. But I can’t see Alexander able to become a renunciate permanently. Eventually, he’d return to public life, although it might take a while. Something concrete would drag him back into public spaces.

If he had Hephaistion with him, much of the grief would be mitigated, and he’d be more inclined to try to find a place in modern public life sooner, although obviously…adjustment period.

I really can’t see him content to sail on prior fame, although he very well could decide to write his own history to “correct” what survived. He might even try to be fairly honest about it, although of course, he’d have his own biases. Historians and others would almost surely pester the hell out of him for all the other history he could provide, and even any texts he had memorized, or knew about that we don’t…but I don’t see him putting up with that for long. He’d be willing to help—I do think Aristotle engendered in him a concern for such things—but only as a side-gig. “When I have time for it."

Alexander is not an “expert on call” type of person. (That’s for academics like me, ha.) He’s not going to advise presidents and prime ministers, even if they initially try to shove him into that slot. He’d want to LEAD, do something productive and grand—something nobody had done before.

Yet that wouldn’t be to conquer the world—or not in the way one might assume. After the initial future-shock wore off, he’d cotton on to the fact “world conquest” was so last century.

Even if we ignore Tarn-esque romanticism, Alexander wasn’t motivated by desire for wealth or power. He WAS motivated by desire for fame—kleos. He wanted to outdo the heroes, even the most famous hero of all, Herakles. In his day, that meant fighting monsters, or at least battle and conquest. Leave his mark on the world and be spoken of forever.

He pretty much succeeded. Believe me, the fact his name still shows up in history books and grand stories would convince him his goal was worthy.

BUT…

There are people more famous than him in the West, dammit! Who is this “Julius Caesar”? Even if Caesar wanted to be Alexander, it would piss off Alexander that Caesar is better known today, and Rome became bigger and lasted longer. King Arthur? He was just king of some rinky-dink island. How is that equal to Alexander’s accomplishments? Then this Jesus guy! He was crucified, for pity’s sake and now he’s at the center of a ginormous world religion? At least Muhammad ruled some cities, but he didn’t do the conquering; that was his kalifs.

(Genghis Khan gets a pass.)

How are all these people now more famous than Alexander?

He has some catching up to do. 😉

Modern autocrats wouldn’t impress him. They think too small and too nationally. And presidents and prime ministers have to get elected, then answer to other parts of their government. He never liked the “governing” part of being king anyway. Business tycoons and tech bros would bore him. He’s not about making money, except insofar as money allows him to do other things. He’d rather woo those with money unless he could figure out a way to make money without having to keep track of anything (like having treasurers to collect taxes for him). He did like being rich enough to be fabulously generous. But money is very much a tool, for him.

He’d be MUCH more intrigued by the global fame of mega-celebrities, although not the likes of the Kardashians. Sports legends, artists…he was interested in such people in his own day: they had an intrinsic talent/gift that made them beloved of the gods.

Yet none of these are heroes with that special aura of respect and admiration. The people I think would fascinate him most are globally recognized religious and civil rights leaders such as Ghandi or Mother Teresa or MLK. Or, more recently, Bishop Tutu, Nelson Mandela, Liu Xiaobo, or Malala Yousafzai. Or the Dalai Lama. He would bend over backwards to meet the Dalai Lama—the man would be total catnip to Alexander. World leader and “philosopher.”

Alexander would recognize that if he wanted to be a world leader again, it couldn’t be through political channels, except insofar as those might offer a stepping stone. Similarly, he’d use his prior fame. But he wouldn’t expect—or want—it to be easy. In fact, the great struggle, including mortal danger, faced by those figures I named is what would set them apart for Alexander. He’d think nothing of putting his life on the line for whatever he chose to do.

Alexander in any era needs a MISSION, something BIG and GLOBAL where he could be the savior, or at least the leader of whatever group ultimately did the saving. Again, depending on where he landed, he might take up a local cause. But he might also find himself facing charges for war crimes. Would Iran try to put him on trial for burning Persepolis? That’s just a start. He did many, many, many horrible things from what is today Uzbekistan to Pakistan and the Gujarat province of India. Countries might line up to take him down, either legitimately for revulsion at historical acts, or as political theatre “against the West” (or both).

How would he deal with accusations of being a monster if he’d decided to recast himself as a savior?

I noted climate change before as a possible interest for the ATG analog, but that’d work equally well for Alexander himself. “I don’t want to conquer the world this time, I want to save it!” Totally be his line. And he’d mean it. He might wake up in the 2020s and be completely appalled at the physical state of the world. But the “I” remains big as part of the “saving.” 😉 The Great White Hero, even if he wouldn't frame it in racial terms. Another thing that might interest him would be world hunger, or gang violence, or the international drug trade….

Supposedly “unconquerable” problems.

He'd still want to be a hero. Yet heroes look different today, so he’d change his spots to match.

(The above sidesteps the fact that if he did come forward to claim he was THE Alexander, he’d be called crazy and challenged to prove it. So he’d have a lot of hoops to jump through before he could do anything. And in our post-truth society, there would still be a large chunk of people who’d never believe he was Alexander, no matter what proof he offered. This would no doubt annoy the ever-loving fuck out of him.)

WHY YOUR MORALITY IS MY PROBLEM: modern holdovers from ancient theology

James Dobson, founder of the ultra-conservative Focus on the Family organization, reputedly said of the 2012 Sandy Hook mass shooting, “I think we have turned our back on the Scripture and on God Almighty and I think He has allowed judgment to fall upon us.”

As heartless as that sentiment sounds today when addressing the murder of 20 first-graders (and 6 adults) at an elementary school, it reflects a once-common theology that emerged about four thousand years ago in the ancient near east (ANE*), then bled into the Mediterranean basin and developed an astonishingly long half-life. It’s why some Christians (et al.) are so, so concerned with what their neighbors are doing behind closed doors. Or on their front lawns with all those Pride flags.

In some ways, ANE and Mediterranean religion had a lot in common, being traditional and focused largely on sacrifice/action (orthopraxic). Over time, some orthodoxic religions also arose in that area. So, first, let’s do some quick defining.

Orthopraxic religions focus on what one DOES, not what one believes. Performing the sacrifice correctly, honoring the gods/ancestors appropriately…that’s how one shows piety. Infringing against purity laws or other affronts to the gods (impious actions) can result in expulsion from the community. Fights over correct practice can lead to schism in a community.

Orthodoxic religions focus on what one BELIEVES. Thus, they need some form of authoritative text to determine what IS right belief, resulting in the emergence of a canon (e.g., Zoroastrian Avesta, Jewish Tanakh, Christian New Testament, or Muslim Qur’an). In Orthodoxic religions, wrong beliefs (heresy) can result in expulsion from the community. Fights over correct belief can lead to schism in a community.

(There’s yet a third focus, orthopathic, but that largely doesn’t apply here. “Orthopraxic” can also apply to ethics-based religions, but in this article, it applies to ritual/cultic behavior.)

Most religions have elements of all three, but it matters where the weight falls. Yes, religions can emphasize two sides of the triangle more heavily, less on the third, but even then, one point will be the chief measurement of devoutness among followers. This also help us understand why two religions might not understand each other very well sometimes. They’re trying to impose one set of “What religion is for” ideas on another, with entirely different assumptions.

The religions of the ANE and Mediterranean had much in common in terms of the purpose of religion: to maintain the health of a community. This depended on the piety of that communities’ members. Their gods weren’t moral in the modern sense, but could be jealous, fickly, and petty.

Why were they gods then?

Because they were immortal and more powerful.

Yet an important difference between (many) ANE and Mediterranean religions were the concepts of sin and “mesharum” (divine justice/equilibrium). If the latter existed (sorta) in Mediterranean society, “sin” really didn’t. Impiety differs as it can include ritual matters too. So, if murder (especially kin murder) created uncleanness anywhere and is a moral/civil matter, menstruation and sex also created uncleanness, but were not moral/civil matters defined as “bad.” So “unclean” ≠ “sin.”

To be unclean is a matter of cultic purity, different from moral purity. Yes, ANE religions also had ritual uncleanness, to be sure. And yes, some things that make one unclean also have intimations of “badness” without being so extreme as murdering someone. Yet I want to underscore the difference because it’s very real and too often ignored/misunderstood/unfairly conflated.

Many Mediterranean religions did not have “sin,” just unclean and impious. MORAL/ETHICAL matters were dictated by civil law and later, philosophic discussion. Not religion. Yet in the ANE, moral infractions were affronts to mesharum (divine order) and were therefore a religious matter. This oversimplifies, but smash-and-grab works for now. We find actions (like iconoclasm) in the ANE that didn’t often apply in the Mediterranean. (Iconoclasm is the deliberate theft, or in extreme cases, destruction of religious icons or structures.)

Yet what both groups shared was a sense that the gods had, well, “bad aim.” If people in a community were impious and/or sinful, that might draw the ire of the gods. Plagues were often seen as divine retribution for the impiety and/or sin of one or more members of that community, but not necessarily all of them. This led to the exile of impious individuals, as well as the ANE “scapegoat” ritual, et al. (If you’re familiar with the plot of the Iliad, Apollo punished the entire Greek army for the impious actions of Agamemnon.)

I could DIE from your impiety/sin committed in my town/community.

That makes your morality my business.

In addition, especially in the ANE, war on earth was believed to reflect war in heaven. Gods had cities and peoples, not the other way around. They chose you, you didn’t god-shop—hence Israel as a “chosen people.” Well, yeah, pretty much every ethnic group was chosen by some god(s). But as a result, if your side lost in a war, then—theoretically—your gods were weaker. Maybe you should go over and start worshiping their gods. Yet that didn’t sit well with most groups, so by the Middle/Late Bronze Age, we see an emerging idea that my god isn’t “weaker” than yours, rather my general “set forth without the gods’ consent,” or my god permitted the other god(s) to win for whatever reason…usually due to sin or a lack of piety among his (or her) people. Of course we find this in the prophetic literature of the Hebrew Bible, but it’s in a lot of other ANE literature too. Nabû or Marduk didn’t lose, they “went to live with” Ashur for however many years—although the winning side will portray the victory as Nabû and Marduk traveling to Nineveh to bow before (e.g., submit to) Assur.

Again, this is simplified, but we don’t see this sort of language used in Greece. Hera would not bow to Athena because the city-state of Athens defeated Argos, even if, as promachos (foremost in battle), Athena might be expected to win in any conflict between the two (as in Euripides’ Children of Herakles). Hera is still queen of the gods, and—even more—these are shared deities. We also don’t see it because notions of “sin” don’t apply and only a handful of wars were ever called “sacred”—all of them concerning Delphi and cultic purity. At least one of those is mythical, the second probably didn’t happen, and the third (which certainly did happen) was labeled “sacred” only by one side. Greek gods just weren’t seen to uphold justice the same way. Roman gods were more concerned with such things, but still not as we find in the ANE.

Ergo, the ANE faced the problem of theodicy: if god/the gods are good/just, why does tragedy happen?

Early explanations for tragedy were simple: those who suffer must have earned their suffering, sometimes referred to as Deuteronomic Theology: “good things happen to good people”/“bad things happen to bad people” (and maybe their neighbors too, by chance).

Pushback against this notion emerged around the same time a more nuanced view of loss in war emerged. People began to ask the corollary: “Why do bad things happen to good people?”

The (c. 1700 BCE) Mesopotamian Ludlul bēl nēmeqi (The Poem of the Righteous Sufferer) attempted an answer. About a thousand years later (600s-500s BCE), the Jewish Book of Job took it on as well. In both, the protagonist asks, “Why does Marduk/Yahweh punish me when I’ve been a faithful servant?” Both protagonists were previously wealthy/powerful, which was seen as divine approval. Losing that wealth/health suggested they had offended their god (and are being punished). Yet each one claims he did not sin—so why?

The answer in both works is similar: there’s not really an answer. Marduk restores Šubši-mašrâ-Šakkan, who ends the poem with a prayer of thanksgiving. Job has a chat with Yahweh, who essentially tells him, “You’re a measly mortal, don’t question me.”

The KEY element in both, however, isn’t the answer, but the assertion that a good person can suffer. They didn’t earn it; it just happened. They remained good and, eventually, their god restored them to their prior station, and then some.

Ergo, if you’re suffering, just be patient. Don’t curse God and die. (As Job is advised to do.)

Today, we may find such an answer wanting but need to recognize it for an advancement on the theology of tragedy.

 Some, however, get stuck in these time-locked answers because they can’t allow their religion to grow. Or rather, they can’t acknowledge that their religion/theology evolves over time, because if it evolves, it wasn’t perfect from the beginning. And that challenges their understanding of their god.

Yet the real fly in the ointment is the notion of a perfect and infallible canon.

This brings me back around to what a canon is. It just means “an authoritative text,” but how that text is understood has nuances. INSPIRED ≠ INFALLIBLE. Most all followers of a canonical text believe it’s inspired by God, but not all (or even most) believe it’s infallible. (Islam is its own category here, note.) That creates some problematic GRAYS.

If it’s only inspired, written by humans with human foibles and history-locked understandings, interpreting it becomes complicated and can lead to disagreements. Taking a literalist view sweeps away the messiness. “God said it; I believe it; that settles it!” Black-and-white.

Those who believe in Biblical literalism/inerrancy (which includes a good chunk of conservative Christian Evangelicals and all Fundamentalists**) will argue the WHOLE Bible is true. If it’s written by God, it must be perfect from the get-go. Thus, a clash is created between simpler versus more nuanced views: Deuteronomy vs. Job. If an earlier view must be as true as any later one, that reduces everything to the most elementary version. It can’t evolve/grow up, yielding what feels to most like a very archaic (and often harsh) worldview.

In any case, both the traditional orthopraxic and orthodoxic religions of the ANE/Med Basin believed God/gods punished people who offended them. AND these punishments might “spill over” onto family and neighbors.

Ancient divine collateral damage.

Ironically, this is WHY early Christians were prosecuted by the pagan (e.g., traditional) Roman and Greek religious establishments. Christian failure to participate in common civic religious cult could earn divine ire. For their first two/two-and-a-half centuries, Christianity was labeled a religio illicta (illegal religion)—in part for “failure to play well with others.” E.g., make sacrifices to the appropriate Greco-Roman deities. Thus, when disaster struck, a scapegoat was sought. Those antisocial Christians are to blame! They don’t sacrifice to the gods and so, offended XXX god, who is now punishing ALL of us with YYY.

Classic ancient religious thinking, but it’s one reason I find current conservative Christian opposition to Teh Gays, trans folks, etc., enormously ironic. The persecuted have become the persecuting.

I want to emphasize that large sub-groups of Jews, Christians, and Muslims have evolved past such theologies. Yet others have not and stubbornly cling to ancient mindsets. That’s why they argue the mere presence of LGBTQI+ people will bring down the wrath of God on ALL.

Talk of “grooming” and “protecting children” is just an attempt to make palatable a belief they know won’t fly with most people, who they consider deluded by The World (e.g., the devil). Trickery is therefore required. As they’re deeply afraid themselves, they understand fear and use it to motivate others. Many are perfectly happy to make their beds with “unbelievers” long enough to get their agendas passed. God will forgive them.

This, too, is rooted in ancient ideas (discussed above) whereby a people’s own god might employ the enemy to punish them (or others). Thus, a sinful person can be utilized on the way to righteous ends because the victory of God wipes away all else. Using the enemy to effect God’s will just proves that God is in final charge of everything after all. It’s the ultimate PWN.

So if you wonder how Christian conservatives can tolerate Trump...that's why. For instance, the Hebrew Bible makes it very plain that the Persian King Cyrus (a non-Jew) is used by Yahweh to defeat Babylon and avenge the destruction of the Temple, then to release the Jews in exile there back to their homeland.

So, while some might honestly believe Trump is some sort of Jesus, many more simply don't care if he's a good person as long as he forwards what they believe to be God's Plan (e.g. ending abortion, or, more extreme: Christian Nationalism). God can use even a sinner like Trump. The ends justify the means.

I hope this helps to explain where these ideas come from, how they originally emerged, and why a subgroup of people still cling to them.

————-

* While Egypt influenced the ANE, as well as Greece and Rome, and is often shoehorned into the ANE, I consider Egypt as NE Africa. It deserves to be treated on its own, or in relation to neighbors such as Kush.

** Fundamentalists and Evangelicals tend to be equated but are not the same. Also, not all Evangelicals are conservatives (although all Fundamentalists are, by definition). Enormous variation exists between Christian denominations, which range from ultra-conservative to (surprise!) ultra-liberal. There is as much of a hard Christian Left as there is a hard Christian Right. We just tend to hear far less about them.

Confessions from the Professorial Side of the Desk #6: Student Etiquette in the Time of Post-Covid

In our semi-post-Covid world, I've noticed students seem a bit more clueless about behavior with regard to professors and class. Here, I speak largely to undergrads; grad students are another kettle of fish. Also, this is a guide for students in North America. Other countries have other titles/expectations, but a goodly portion of this applies across the board.

I'm not sure how much some of the necessary informality of Covid led to these issues, as I'd witnessed these trends even before Covid, but certainly the lack of in-person education accelerated it.

So, here are some helpful dos and don'ts that will protect both you and your professors, and let you avoid pissing us off. It's offered without much cushioning, as sometimes bluntness is required. If most of this seems self-evident, you're all set.

DO:

1) READ YOUR EMAIL. Regularly. Which means more than once a month. Or once a week. Try once a day.

This is especially important in an online class, but also for in-person classes. Sometimes it's the only way we can get in touch with you, especially in larger classes, or if you have a habit of sneaking into class at the last minute and flying out the door at the end.

Failure to read your email could result in failure of the class because you missed important information.

2) SHOW UP TO CLASS. Attendance is not optional. With in-person classes, you do actually need to put your butt in a seat more than occasionally, or you'll fail. I can't guarantee you'll pass even with perfect attendance. But I can all but guarantee you won't pass (at least not my classes) if your attendance is poor. After teaching for 25+ years, I have the data to prove it too.

For some students, attendance was always spotty, but it's gotten notably worse. Some want Zoom as an option but you can't really learn (well) over Zoom. As things right themselves, I no longer offer Zoom options for class without a specific medical reason. Zoom is great for meetings, for international conferences, even for office hours. There are legit uses for Zoom. Lazy-attendance is not one of them.

Related: don't show up consistently (or even occasionally) late, or leave early--especially with no explanation. It may not be personal, but we (the professors) don't know that. Neither do the other students. If there was an emergency that called you away, common courtesy says to email the professor later to explain. Or if you were late, tell the professor why after class.

3) READ COMMENTS ON YOUR PAPERS (or other things you may turn in).

We expect you to learn from prior effort. I spend a lot of time commenting on student papers, both content and grammar. If you're not going to bother reading it, at least do me the courtesy of telling me so in advance so I can return minimal effort and not waste my time on you. If that sounds sarcastic, well, so does not bothering to read the comments your professor makes to help you.

If you can't find the comments (e.g., you're not sure how to see track-changes and comments), just ask! I'll be happy to show you. I'll also be happy to further explain anything in comments. I only can't be bothered when the student can't be bothered first. That earns my disdain. Otherwise, I am there to teach you.

DO NOT:

1) ask for your professor's phone number. Nor should your professor ask for yours.

Exceptions: if you're doing some sort of field work or project or service learning, where texting may be important. But even then, it should be kept only to the project. You should not text your professor about other parts of your life...nor should they text you about theirs.

If a professor begins to intrude on your privacy, you should immediately contact your university's Title IX Office. Keep all texts. If they're calling you, try to record it.

Similar cautions apply to asking a professor's home address. Again, some exceptions, such as a whole-class event at the professor's home for an upper-division course. But generally, you don't need to know where they live, nor do they need to know where you live, at least not precisely. A general query is not out of order. Sometimes I do ask a student where they live when it comes to thinking about storms/snow, but I neither need nor want their street address, or even their street. If you wish to send them a card after class is over, take it to their mailbox in the department.

2) send your professor a friend request on Facebook or similar social media unless the professor has a public-facing account.

For instance, I have Twitter, Tumblr, and even a public Facebook account as a published author. But I also have a private FB account meant for friends and family. I do not allow undergrads on that account, nor do I (often) allow grad students, especially now that I have a public FB account. They simply don't need to know my family business (nor would they want to see 99 pictures of my cats and beadwork).

3) ask your professor to have a beer with you, or accept an offer from a professor to go drinking, especially one-on-one or just a couple of you. It can look very bad.

Exceptions: If it's a group event for the whole class and (of course) if the student is of age to drink in whatever country. 

4) give your professor expensive gifts. (No, not even if you're wealthy. I'm not Sokrates and you're not Plato.)

Bringing them a chocolate bar or a coffee or some flowers is just fine. But anything over about $20/25 could look like attempted bribery, even if you mean it sincerely. And never offer or give your professor actual cash unless it's a reimbursement and there are receipts involved.

5) refer to your female professor as "Mrs." unless she specifically tells you to. "Ms." is not acceptable either, but it's better. For some students, this is a hold-over from what they were taught was polite in high school, but there are several problems with it in college.

First, your female professor is quite possibly a Dr., and calling her "Mrs." is reductive in a way calling a male professor "Mr." is not. Yes, due to sexism. I realize you probably don't mean it that way, but it can be perceived that way. "Mrs." removes your professor's individual identity as an expert in her field by not awarding her the title she spent a lot of time, money, sweat, and tears to earn (the PhD), and she may not even be married. It's a holdover from a more patriarchal world to assume she is.

What if your professor doesn't have a PhD? Not all of them do; one can teach lower-division college courses with an MA.

PROFESSOR is always safe. Notice I've been using it throughout this essay. Now, here is where different countries have different titling rules. But in the US, "Prof. ___" is always a safe form of address. If you want, you can err on the side of caution and use "Dr. ___." The person will probably tell you if they don't have that title, but they won't be offended if you use it. But you are quite likely to annoy your female professors if you call them "Mrs." and they're a Dr.

It's not being "uppity." That title took a lot to earn. Respect it.  And "uppity" is another way men try to put women in their place.

6) call your professor by first name, either--unless explicitly told to do so. Some professors are uncomfortable with a title, but in general, do err on the side of politeness. Most of my students now are young enough to be my children. You don't get to call me by first name. (One of my son's friends in school used to call me "Dr. Ian's Mom," which I found funny.)

Hopefully, that will prove useful, especially for freshman and sophomores, as you start to navigate the wilds of college.