[ This post was written by may very good friend, former house and band mate Richard. I asked him to write a story about one of his favourite old t-shirts. This is what he had to say on the matter… Cheers, Mr B.]
Give me the man and I’ll show you the T-shirt.
Every bloke has an old thread-bare t-shirt in his drawer or wardrobe that outsiders will say should be binned. Why? Because on the surface it will be a garment guaranteed to be full of holes, stretched and out of shape, held together by a several strands of cotton and probably with a unique smell, all of its own.
It will have been washed up to 10,000 times – possibly more in warmer, sweatier climates. Washed and re-washed to a point of transparency. It won’t offer protection from ultra-violet radiation nor will it even provide warmth.
It is a t-shirt that can only be worn in the strictest of circumstances; a drive to the shop or when visiting an elderly relative. This t-shirt cannot be worn where there is expected to be robust physical interaction such as play fighting, wrestling, a first date or really sport of any kind.
This t-shirt has endured the hardships, stood up to the dangers, and taken risks on a journey too epic to be told here.
And each man has such a t-shirt; but if you’re someone who doesn’t, forget about it; it’s pointless trying to get one. You certainly can’t go and buy one, nor can you predict which of your own t-shirts might become “the one”. Only time will reveal the answer.
It is not the design, the colour or the logo that creates the one.
It is simply the t-shirt that outlives all others. The one that has avoided being quietly swiped and put into a “rags” bucket. The one that was not stolen by a brother when he needed to borrow a t-shirt because he spilt sauce on his. It’s the one that you just can’t bring yourself to get rid of.
T-shirts of this calibre cannot simply be thrown away. But if you’re a man of weak will and have agreed to have your garment “dispatched,” rest assured your t-shirt will find its way into the right hands.
If your t-shirt is anything is like mine, it’s story will pre-date you and it’s best if you just acknowledge the fact and move on. I found my t-shirt in a large orange garbage bag being thrown out by a house-mate. “I’m going to London,” he said, “I can’t be wearing this sort of thing over there.” Poor misguided fool.
So when “someone” gives you that look about your t-shirt, it is your duty to remind them that the situation is “beyond your control”. Tell them: “It’s not up to me to throw away this t-shirt. It’s not my decision. This t-shirt is bigger than me.” And most likely, it probably is.
