An Ode to My T-shirt Collection
Cleaning out my closet is not a spring-only activity; no, it’s a year-round endeavor. Call it what you want: a way to outsource a particularly bad case of overwhelm or an attempt to dispel boredom on a dreary Sunday, but I’ve never been one to put off this chore. I have an aversion to stuff, which I get from my mother. This feeling extends towards my dresser, my closet, and any and all bins that have found their way under my bed. The pink asymmetrical dress I bought from a small town vintage store two summers ago, in which I had a lovely conversation with the store owner who convinced me to buy the dress, complimenting not only its rarity amongst the trends of the 2020s but how the cherry blossom pink made me glow? Donation pile, next! I’m not an aloof person, but I can channel indifferent energy when I’m standing in front of a bursting closet, vintage dresses notwithstanding.
Where I bend – where I’ll always bend – is with my t-shirt collection. As the saying goes, we all have our thing. I’m always fifteen minutes early, and I won’t get rid of my ripped Nirvana t-shirt from Urban Outfitters, so I guess I have two things.
The one that defined my early 20s aspirations
Did you make your friend do a photoshoot with you as you wore a ripped Nirvana t-shirt across the city of Philadelphia, posing at multiple “vibey” street corners when you were 23, or were you normal?
Picture this: you’re making “adult” money for the first time and living your “new” life. You walk into the King of Prussia Urban Outfitters and you beeline for the band shirt wall. You don’t balk at the prices (externally…internally is a different story). You decide this will be the t-shirt. For dive bar nights with your older friends, at brunch with the hometown gaggle, most definitely overtop a matching workout set to SoulCycle, but you’ll take it off after the warm-up song, because you’re not that blasé about getting it dirty yet.
I bought this when we were still heavily in the “name one song” era of wearing band shirts. Now, it’s so ripped, there are rips within the rips, and no one bats an eye. It’ll stay in my ‘wear occasionally, but probably not out of the house’ pile. But who knows, they say indie sleaze is back…
The one I’m convinced will be worth a million dollars in 50 years
And yet I still wouldn’t list it on eBay. But I feel it's worth appreciating, just like I feel routinely grateful to live at the same time as Harry Styles. I bought the Harry Styles: Live on Tour white merch tee when I saw him at his first solo tour in 2018. It was a sticky summer night, and hearing Kiwi live for the first time was imminent. My phone battery was getting low, but I preserved it long enough to send Snapchats to my lifelong One Direction friends when the first chords of Stockholm Syndrome began. The crowd went crazy over Medicine, but I went crazier over Only Angel. This shirt is stained and faded and has been through the dryer too many times, but its worth will always be priceless.
The one that’s about more than it seems
What’s a quote that pops in your head when you think about love, and why is it, “this morning, with her, having coffee”. Johnny Cash was, of course, referring to June Carter Cash when asked what his definition of paradise was. Not soon after becoming attached to this quote did I buy a t-shirt with Cash’s infamous 1965 mugshot on it. This was one of those random Covid purchases I made because I was barely spending any money at the time so it was easier to justify buying a t-shirt I didn’t need. Over 4 years later and it’s still a favorite in my rotation. I reach for it when I’m going on weekend trips and want something perfectly large and lived-in for sleeping, but still acceptable to lounge in around other people. If that sounds hyper-specific it’s because it is, but that’s the through line of my t-shirt collection: they’re each worn for pretty specific outings. It’s about the fabric, the fit, and the aesthetic, down to the carefully placed rips along the shoulder seams. People compliment this one a lot which is always funny to me because I can’t imagine Cash was thrilled about being busted for drug possession, and now his pre-jail face is just, like, being manufactured on oversized cotton novelty t-shirts for girls like me who buy it and think, “perfect for the long weekend at the shore!”.
The one etched with lore that’s not mine
I deleted TikTok last summer and haven’t looked back. It’s too easy now to feel like these people—celebrities, influencers, creators—are our friends. We weren’t meant to know this much, etc., etc. However, what I’m more interested in are the people who made us feel this way long before the word “parasocial” was part of everyday vernacular, and I mean that in a good way. I’m talking about Indy Blue, obviously. Her cinematic travel videos are a fun bored-day rabbit hole, and her clothing line, Lonely Ghost, was one I became obsessed with a few years back. The people who got it, got it. Every new drop was presented to us with Indy’s signature aesthetic touch. The images were cool, but intentional. High budget, but accessible. That was her speciaity with Lonely Ghost—you had to have it because the brand was her. I believe she has since left the company (again, it’s her lore, not mine), and some minor internet sleuthing leads me to believe the quality has since dipped, but my Lonely Ghost tees of yore remain in my collection. I can’t lie and say I wear them all the time; they feel very, I guess, 4 years ago to me now. But I don’t say that with judgment or disdain, I really loved my Lonely Ghost era. It’s fun to feel a part of something.
Honorable mention:
The lime green “I’m So Julia” shirt I made for the SWEAT tour this past fall. It’s hard to part with tees you make for concerts, Halloween costumes, or hyper specific theme nights, although I admit I rarely ever wear them again. Though this one I have worn recently because the BRAT club nights somehow keep finding their way on my calendar…
Rebecca is a writer, marketer, and sometimes event coordinator based in Philadelphia. She writes Don’t Copy Me, a weekly newsletter about recommendations and life on Substack, and you can follow her on Instagram @itsrebeccap.