- Delia Chandler
- Sep 2, 2020
- 4 min read
Updated: Sep 22, 2024
I have spring fever. Badly. Thank God, Buddha, and Allah the sun has finally come out, because I am sick and tired of saying how sick and tired I am of this crappy weather, and how this last snowstorm has got my hip acting up... Enough is enough. I have decided to focus on warmth. And nothing warms the cockles of my sun-deprived soul more than donning my favourite article of clothing - a t-shirt.
I don't own blouses, I own t-shirts. Good thing the definition of power dressing has evolved because I will, with impunity, wear a t-shirt - preferably one with an edgy graphic or "pithy expression of wisdom or truth" - under a smart blazer, coupled with a black pencil skirt and chunky boots to a pitch meeting with grown-ass adults.
I 'Flashdance' (ie: cut out the neck either in a deep V or a wide boat neck, then cut off the sleeves) every single t-shirt I own. I cut, torture, and stretch sweatshirts, too. Nothing sporty or cotton is safe from the wrath of my scissorhands. I have even been know to Flashdance my husband's t-shirts when I borrow them. Kinda rude, I know, but I just can't stand a closed, crew neck or flappy short sleeves. I need my decolletage and shoulders to be free to move and breathe. He has learned to hide his favourite t-shirts from me, but that's okay. He prefers his skate punk loose. I like the tighter, rock chick fit.
I have t-shirts that I'm sure are older than most of you, my dear readers. My oldest living t-shirt, which I retired after the birth of my second child in 2004, is safely tucked in a storage trunk at my mother's house in the States. It is a concert t-shirt from The Cure's 1985 US "Boy's Don't Cry" tour. Sadly, my t-shirt from The Cult's US tour the same year died a tragic death during the spin cycle at a Chicago laundromat in '97.
When it comes to t-shirt graphics, my favorites look like a ball point pen drawing on the back cover of your high school boyfriend's maths spiral notebook. These images have the kind of angst-ridden artistic integrity that Instragram wishes they could translate into an app.
The History of the T-Shirt
The origin of the t-shirt is credited to the US Navy, who were issued crew-necked, short-sleeved, white cotton undershirts around 1913. The newly created shirt allowed ease of movement, quick drying, and protection from their scratchy wool uniforms. By the 1920s, the word 't-shirt' was added to the American English Dictionary. In the late 1930s, US retailers Hanes, Fruit of the Loom, and Sears Roebuck & Co started marketing their versions, but it was in the 1940’s with the return of the WWII servicemen when the t-shirt became a staple in every man's wardrobe.
Not surprisingly, Hollywood had a huge impact on the classic tee. The iconic image of Marlon Brando in the 1951 film "A Streetcar Named Desire", his temper as hot and steamy as a French Quarter flat in August, his sweat-soaked t-shirt clinging to his muscular heaving chest as he bellowed up to the bedroom window of his beloved "Stella!!"... goodness gracious me... Then there is the "Rebel Without a Cause" James Dean's pure white t-shirt, barely containing his raging teen angst under a cherry red jacket. His dark blue Levi's rolled up at the cuff exposing bright white socks and black work boots completed the timely uniform of youthful rebellion and ultimate cool.
The Smithsonian Institute in Washington, DC has ‘the oldest printed T-shirt’ on record in their collection and on display. It is a campaign shirt for New York Governor Thomas Dewey's 1948 presidential campaign.
On the morning after the 1948 presidential election between Gov. Dewey and Harry S. Truman, the Chicago Daily Tribune's headline read "DEWEY DEFEATS TRUMAN." That's what the Republicans, the polls, the newspapers, the political writers, and even many Democrats had expected. But in the largest political upset in U.S. history, Harry S. Truman surprised everyone when he, and not Thomas Dewey, won the 1948 election for President of the United States.
The 1960s saw the birth of the tie-dye craze in T-shirts, which later ushered in the introduction of screen printing t-shirts. This relatively easy and inexpensive printing process catapulted the t-shirt into becoming a vehicle for publicizing social change and political unrest. During the 60’s and 70's, the music industry wisely capitalized on the popularity of the t-shirt. Rock bands began selling them at concerts with images and slogans and merchandising soon became a huge moneymaker. Now that irony has become the mainstream, wearing a T-shirt in public is no longer subversive. It's a way of aligning with your affiliations, expressing your identity, and at times, telling your life story with one word. Talk about bearing your chest...
Delia Chandler
Web Editor, Brighton Fashion Week
Images courtesy of:
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