HAVING 'IT' IN HIGH SCHOOL Defining coolness

Who's really got it is almost as elusive as how to get it. But that's what being cool's all about -- right?
By ASHLEY POWERS
VINDICATOR STAFF WRITER
James Dean had it. The Fonz did, too -- well, before Henry Winkler looked way too old to be in high school. Sarah Michelle Gellar may have it. And Jennifer Love Hewitt seems to want it. Badly.
That essence, that aura, that swagger. That undeniable trait that gives one the elusive label of cool.
Even Hollywood stars portraying high-schoolers have a tough time bottling it. Imagine being a real person, with a real wardrobe and -- gulp -- real pimples trying get it.
Yikes.
For local high-schoolers at the Southern Park Mall, putting a finger on high school coolness is like tackling a tough algebra equation without a formula. Certain things are supposed to work in certain places, but getting the whole thing right is still far from simple.
Understand that in high school, it's all based on unspoken, and at times confusing, rules.
Take this exchange on how to attain coolness between Brad Bowman and his friend Stefan Thompson, both 16-year-old juniors at Ursuline High School:
Brad: "You automatically gotta know somebody, like an athlete."
Stefan: "Or you gotta know some chicks."
Brad: "Or you gotta do something to get known."
Stefan: "You gotta start doing what other people do."
The when-in-Rome mentality is plentiful. Stefan and Brad were dressed almost identically -- T-shirts, baggy jeans -- as was each pair and trio interviewed.
Clothes count: The clothes, teens said, are almost calling cards for who you are, where you belong. Beaver Local sophomores Megan Molinaro and Jenna Farland, both 15, both in stretchy neon tops and navel-grazing jeans, proudly called themselves preppies. That, they say, is cool.
Others at their small school, Megan said, are skaters, jocks. "And then there's the people that don't really care what they look like."
The two girls grimace.
But it's more than just clothing -- at least at The Rayen School, where uniforms are required. Kyara Austin and Kenyatta Robinson, both 16, both in tight tops and jeans, say the school's cliques, especially among the guys, are divided geographically.
North Side vs. South Side. East vs. West. Changes come when families move.
The girls consider themselves floaters between groups -- though being cheerleaders probably helps.
"The cheerleaders are the coolest in the school," said Kenyatta, laughing, hand out for a high five.
Kyara obliged. "We're the most hated, though," she said. "We get booed at games."
Down the walkway, three guys -- baggy, comic-adorned T-shirts, loose jeans, metal chokers -- claim to be hated, too.
Maybe that's a badge of coolness?
"What we think is cool, no one else thinks is cool," said Bernard Anderson, 15, of Boardman. "I think people that are individuals are cool, cause we're all individuals."
He nods to friends Josh Trolio and Matt Paliga, both 15.
A price to pay: "They act the way people want them to act," Josh said of the truly cool kids, the rich kids. At Boardman High School, Josh said, the two are synonymous, with the girls being the worst offenders.
"All the girls are on a mission to be popular, or they're worse off than us," Bernard said.
Josh jumped in: "We either can't get 'em or don't want 'em."
Bernard's attention is elsewhere: A petite blonde is walking by. "That's one of the girls we wish we could talk to," he said.
Does he even know her?
He shakes his head no.
So why is he concerned?
"I don't know," he replied. "She just seems cool."