Monday, 11 June 2018
What if I need to treat my T-shirts better? #WeAreTheProblems
I overthink everything to make the world a happier place
What if I need to treat my T-shirts better?
The T-shirt went for “shirt” status and I admire that.
It could have gone for “vest” but it reached for the stars.
And got my armpits.
And then T-shirt went for a hyphen.
Because apostrophe would be pretentious.
T-shirt and jeans is the uniform of my mid-life crisis.
Looking down, midriff crisis.
I am exactly the right age to pull off a T-shirt.
By pull off I mean wear and under no circumstances remove in public.
Bare chests are for youth.
My chest is improved by oblique pictures and/or big numbers.
I buy them from the finest fashion shops:
Anywhere with the words discount and outlet.
They’re called outlets because that’s the closest word to “waste products” and “rage”.
Which also explains my T-shirts' smell.
I can’t help feeling the 5 labels of care advice is... ambitious.
But the tags help me learn all the poorer parts of SE Asia.
The reason I am sharing all of this is that today I have to let one go.
It’s 40% cotton.
It was 100% but now it’s more holes than cotton.
I don’t know why I find it so hard to let my T-shirts go...
...from that special storage place that just happens to be the same distance I can hurl it from the bed.
When they’re in service, I don’t treat them very well.
I love them because they soak up everything.
This one’s got so much of my DNA, I’m surprised it didn’t just write this by itself.
What if my eyebrows are too long for this world? #WeAreTheProblems
All about me, and getting these by email.