
“Hey. There are flies on your shirt.”
Sometimes it happens in my first meeting of the day. Sometimes it happens as I’m in the checkout line. It even occurs as I walk down the stairs in my own home. Apparently I look like a man who doesn’t know what he’s wearing. At the bare minimum, when I’m wearing this particular shirt I give the impression that I am wholly unawares of what I have used to covered my torso.
Perhaps it is because there are flies on my shirt.
I have seen shirts covered in little sailboats or palm trees. I wonder if the men wearing them have been told that their shirts are covered in seacraft and island foliage. It is possible. But I doubt it.
People wear Simms and Orvis shirts. People wear Salt Life headbands (do they even make real hats?) and Columbia PFG shirts (you need those vents for long days at the mall, dads). All these wardrobe choices elicit is an occasional affirming head nod.
It is this shirt. This one stirs things up whenever and wherever I wear it.
Here are my top three hypotheses regarding the phenomenon of attire-based commentary that follow me when wearing this shirt:









