Ugliest T-Shirt In The Free World
Shao’s comment to the last chicken pox post amused me because of the T-shirt I’m wearing at the moment in yet another attempt at chicken-related humour. I’ve tried to find a picture on the Web but it’s so hideous that I guess no one sells it any more. Therefore, for posterity’s sake I suddenly feel the need to capture its fugliness here.
Front fug
Back fug
No, I don’t know what I was thinking either. It was one of my first dates with Alec, so I pretty much started our romantic life by horrifying him with my sense of style. All I can say in my defence is that we’d shared a bottle of wine for dinner and had had to drink it fairly quickly because the gig was starting soon. So, in a rush and high on the heady mix of alcohol and crush hormones, I made my biggest (I’ve made other mistakes, but at least they didn’t involve paying £15 for a butt-ugly T-shirt) fashion faux pas ever.
I challenge any of you to beat that.
I quite like it actually. Admittedly it’s mostly the Mercury Rev bit that appeals to me. But then I am usually a walking fashion faux pas, so maybe subconsciously it’s the rest of it as well.
Speaking of MR, have you heard the new album? I’m not hugely impressed by it, but apparently it’s a grower. Won’t stop me going to see them at http://www.primaverasound.com, anyway… (Bragging? Moi?)
I remember this evening vividly. Whilst you were perusing the shoddy merchandise stalls, I was rapt in my own inner turmoil. My romanctic sensibilities were telling me that now, surrounded by spotty, smelly youth, in shabby Shepard’s Bush, now was the time to risk it all.
OK Alec, say something along the lines of “we’ve been doing stuff together for a while now and I like you lots, so how’s about a snog”, but make it sound smooth.
But, I’m a coward and I chickened out.
“Damn it Alec, during the meal, when she was kinda tipsy, that was the moment.”
Way too much guilt, self loathing and fear to notice the t-shirt.
But I pulled it off eventually, yah! Can’t remember my speech. Thank God for repression.
Awww. Also, I ended up seeing them at Hammersmith Apollo last night, and while they were really good, the t shirts on sale were all far uglier than that one. And I’m very forgiving with band t shirts.
I’m usually content to accept that the designer and me just have artistic differences when I don’t like band shirts, but I honestly think this one goes beyond the realm of subjectivity. But maybe I should hang on to it. In 20 years it might acquire some “so ugly it’s trendy” appeal, at which point I will sell it on ebay to an infant hipster.