I’ve been thinking recently that the time has come to buy some new t-shirts.
Actually, I say “thinking”, but I don’t really have any choice.
I’ve got more than one that have holes in them (other than the ones that should be there, you pedants!), and a couple where the threads are coming undone.
This is more of an issue than you might think, as my workplace has a casual dress policy. I need these for work. I’d rather not wear anything too interesting though. I don’t want people thinking I support Nike, Adidas, or worse, a football team/footballer/football.
I don’t really want to look like a crazed supporter of anything – which is tricky.
I really hate clothes shopping.
Growing up, my family had no money. The closest I came to wearing the clothes that were deemed cool, were knock-offs from the market.
Even then, I felt uncomfortable, and seemed to catch these trends just as they were going out. If there’s one thing worse than wearing clothes that were NEVER fashionable, it’s wearing ones that were fashionable a month ago, but definitely aren’t anymore.
Yes – although I need clothes, if I can’t get it while buying my normal daily shop, I probably don’t get around to it for a good year or two. Or three.
Being a men’s budget-clothing designer looks like a piece of piss, to be honest. Almost everything fits into one of a few basic categories.
This just seems a bit horrible.
A skull smoking! Cause smoking is like well hard and cool. What am I? 12?
What is this all about?
2. Old Shit That Happened Before I Was Born
Wearing a star wars shirt or something advertising the Beatles (ignoring how much I hate that boring load of hippies), seems completely stupid.
It all pre-dates me by quite a massive number of years. I might as well go the whole hog and have one that says “my mate died in the Great Fire of London and all I got was this lousy t-shirt”, or a list of Roman “tour” dates of the countries they conquered.
3. Meaningless Alphanumerics
Can’t think of what to put on a T-shirt? Try ABH767-92. No? How about JHB-75JGB_36?
What is that about? It looks like the sort of password that your bank insist you set up.
For the man who is unashamedly a complete bellend, and just doesn’t care who knows it.
I thought this was a particularly disappointing drug/alcohol-based one:
What happened to nice shirts?
Lizards are everywhere in Ibiza. In logos, and physically EVERYWHERE. Look – there’s one behind you! I’m amazed there isn’t one on their national flag. There is almost certainly one actually ON their flag.
Oh and what did I buy after all this?