Recently an upstanding citizen (who will remain nameless – to protect the guilty) was denied entry into a third-rate dancehall based on his attire. The offending garb: a plain white t-shirt. Shocked? You shouldn’t be. There is silent war being waged on the white t-shirt. Here are the facts.
The white t-shirt has long been an iconic symbol of America. James Dean. Marlon Brando. Freaking Mickey Mantle.
But lately the white t-shirt is under attack. For instance, its name is now sullied by the likes of pop-punk pussy rockers, “The Plain White T’s.”
We all know that some reasonable facsimile of “Hey There Delilah” has been played at open mic nights for over 40 years. Since Dylan was Bobby Zimmerman and wooing the ladies of the Minnesota night. It was usually called “Trying to Get Laid (Traditional).” Of course, “Delilah” gets nominated for a Grammy. But I digress.
The crimes don’t stop there. The classic tee has another foe – what I have dubbed “the Hardy Boy V-Neck.” I wish this related to preppy, crime-fighting brothers and an old mill.
Alas, it is not.
You have seen these about town. Generally they are sported by bouncers, bartenders, rich-boy drug dealers and the like, who must use these plunging V-necks as day-time attire because their Ed Hardy shirts are covered with coke from the night before. (I refuse to post a picture of these shirts in protest.) Can we really just leave the plunging necklines to the ladies?
I mean, come on, there are standards people. We’re not animals.
These are just a few of the ways the classic tee is being slowly phased out of our lives. The classic tee must survive. We all must do our part. So grab a hard pack of Marlboro Reds unfiltered (filters are for pussies) and roll ‘em up in your sleeve. Take a pull of Jack Daniels, crank “Honky Tonk Woman, and say with me “we will not go quietly into that dark night……”