well, i don't make much sense. here's a little something for you.

Last night, I made a friend. His name is John. Hi, John!


Now, to the matter at hand. Today is going to be very busy. I have to clean my room (its a death trap), do all of my homework BEFORE two in the afternoon, and I have to go to crew... in the cold ... sometimes snow... *sniffle*


But, lets talk about something that is actually interesting to people. 


ummmmm *ponders mind*
          
                 how about.......

t-shirts!

yeah, I like it. 

So, basically, I live in t-shirts. Not that you care or anything. They are just so gosh darn comfortable! Makes you want to live in one, right?! And then, once you actually do, you start to stop wearing some and re-wearing others. And then, what happens to the t-shirts at the back of the closet? They take up space, and then your mother says "NO!" to any more t-shirts until you get rid of some, but HEAVEN FORBID you discard the already unwanted garment. (Raise your hand if this applies to you. *raises hand.*) 

I feel like t-shirts are completely taking over the industry. I mean, I have quite a hefty amount. A lot of them are actually vintage. I take pride in them. They are my absolute favorite t-shirts ever. And then, out of that lot, there is one that I wear maybe twice a week. Its a 1984 Head of the Charles regatta t-shirt. When I pulled it out of the bin at my grandmother's house (my secret closet) I practically had convulsions. Luckily, mi madre was more than happy to pass it on to me. (And then, I wore it to practice one day and my coach commented on it....awkward.)

(my favorite t-shirt as of right now. it's actually new, like, in the past two weeks.)

(isn't my face just dandy?)

One day, while I was walking down the fine 5th Avenue located in a certain New York City, mi padre decided it would be fun to walk into Emporio Armani. Now, I was not dressed up to go shopping. As much as I love it, I would have much rather gone to MoMA to gape at modern art and photography. But, armed with only my camera, I reluctantly went inside. (This is relevant, I promise)

It was rather white and upscale looking. I was wearing chucks...and jeans...and a ski jacket. (I didn't wear it willingly. I am a fashion conscious human being, I was just lazy that day.) Much to my surprise, the employees did not give me looks of disdain, rather, we were ignored. So, as I found the t-shirts, I was dismayed to see that they had "EMPORIO ARMANI" plastered across the chest in gold sequins. And then, I found the price tag. NINETY. I was shocked that people actually paid that money for that kind of clothing. I mean, sure, I would cough up $920 if it meant that I could have a pair of Ann Demuelemeester Spring/Summer 2009 lace-up sandal booties. But, alas, I am not that wealthy, and would probably break my ankles walking in them. 

So, anyway, back to t-shirts. It really irks me when they make t-shirts, such as some sold in Delia's, that have saying such as "I wanna be number one!" accompanied by a number two pencil. OR, "That's how we roll!" with a picture of sushi. Its actually kind of sickening. I think they should try to revive the vintage appeal. Who wants to pay twenty bucks for a vintage-looking t-shirt, when you could probably find one at Salvation Army for less than ten. (I don't even live near a Salvation Army, so I probably shouldn't be talking.)

Even as I am bashing parts of the t-shirt industry, I must celebrate the idea. T-shirts, are, in fact, miraculous. They make me happy on my saddest days. They are comfortable, and casual, and I wear them just about everywhere. You can dress them up, or dress them down, or dance in them, or sleep in them. Celebrate them.

celebrate life. 

go, buy yourself a t-shirt now. you deserve it.