By this shirt here: If You Don’t Like My Tattoos Dial 1800 Eat Shit Shirt
The first week of quarantine in late March I, like many out there lucky enough to stay home, wore nothing but pajamas at all hours of the If You Don’t Like My Tattoos Dial 1800 Eat Shit Shirt but in fact I love this day. At the time, I must admit it felt like a real treat––until I was forced to turn on my Zoom camera. After that came my Paul Bunyan moment, consisting of long johns and oversized flannel shirts, which occurred in tandem with my extended trip home to Minnesota. At some point in late spring, I tried my hand at Zoom tops, but it was short-lived. At the end of the day I found that no puff-sleeved thing could ever live up to the comfort of a worn-in t-shirt or cozy oversized sweater. Over the course of the past year, I have drifted in and out of a number of dressing patterns. Each involved varying degrees of effort, but always aimed for high marks in overall comfort and ease.
If You Don’t Like My Tattoos Dial 1800 Eat Shit Shirt, hoodie, tank top, sweater and long sleeve t-shirt
And while I have landed on a winter uniform that consists of mostly chunky, androgenous knits and soft cotton turtlenecks à la Steve Jobs, I’ve recently found myself reincorporating my most dainty and feminine accessories back into the If You Don’t Like My Tattoos Dial 1800 Eat Shit Shirt but in fact I love this mix. It began with a ruffled detachable collar, then a pair of two-tone drop earrings, followed by a bejeweled headband, my favorite pearly barrettes, and finally, a crystal brooch––the last item I ever thought I’d find myself donning for a remote Zoom meeting (save, perhaps, for my favorite pair of Prada platform sandals which are currently crammed inside a 6×6’ storage unit).
