HEY YOU! THERE IN THAT SHIRT, DID I SEE IT SOMEWHERE?
Of course I did. Twelve times yesterday. Between a video of someone's lunch and an advertisement for better sleep. You're wearing the interruption.
You didn't like it at first, did you? Be honest. The shape was strange. The graphic looked unfinished. Then someone interesting wore it. Then someone attractive. By Friday, you were setting an alarm to buy it.
Funny. You can sleep through your own ambitions, but apparently this shirt required a punctual entrance.
Now the collar sits wrong. A seam is coming loose. You keep adjusting it, which looks almost like confidence if nobody watches too closely.
Still, someone asks where you got it.
There it is. Worth every uncomfortable minute.
You give them the link. You don't mention the fabric. They don't ask. For a moment, neither of you has to admit that you wouldn't have looked twice at it hanging anonymously in a shop.
Welcome to none culture. Taste, function, quality: lovely extras, if available. The important thing is that enough people have been told to want it. Mediocrity has a waiting list now. You were lucky to get in.
Don't look at me like that. I've bought the shirt too.
Maybe that's why I keep thinking about what deserves to be worn in public. A graphic tee I'd choose without the campaign. Streetwear that says something I actually mean. Worn In Public. A name, yes, but also a question: what am I putting out there, and is any of it mine?
You look down at your shirt. For a second, you remember what you thought before everyone else told you what to think.
Then your phone lights up.
New release. Same brand.
You ask me to hold your drink.
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