“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:
a. They know I fish.
I consider myself personable. But I suppose I could be unapproachable to some. Seeing the flies gives them something to finally talk about with me. But, at the same time, it is only a rank observation and not really a question. Ultimately, here’s the problem with this one: I get an inordinate amount of feedback from strangers.
b. They are embarrassed.
“There are flies on your shirt” is a nice way to say “Well at least you’re able to dress yourself.” It is the kind of passive-aggressive speech mitigation that only truly reveals one’s own insecurity and closeted inability to recognize high fashion. Flies can be stylish like fancy fashion brand logos or argyle or houndstooth. Right? Yeah. It can’t be that they don’t like the shirt and are uncomfortable by it.
c. They are mesmerized.
It is a very attractive shirt. Grey is a great color – maybe the best color. And flies are art. Feathers, fur, and UV-light cured epoxy art. It is casual and fun, but there are buttons and a collar. It is the outdoorsman’s dress-shirt equivalent of a mullet. Maybe it is infatuation or envy; bare minimum it is the implicit human response to beholding something of great aesthetic splendor. (This explanation is my leading contender.)
So why do I wear this shirt? Simply put: because it has flies on it. I need a shirt and I like flies.
And it also happens to be one heck of a conversation starter.
Do you have a piece of angling-related clothing that you love? that your spouse hates? that others can’t help but comment on? Let me know in the comments below.