Y’know that Clive Owen film, Children of Men? There’s a line in it where someone says something along the lines of “when you have a ringing in your ears its that particular frequency dying and you’ll never hear it again,” is that true? If so, I am a bit nervous, because my ears rang for literally two days after a particular heavy night in a particularly loud club in Manchester.
Still, I’m not going to let going deaf get in the way of my love for loud, repetitive beats in crowded, overpriced clubs which have an airport style metal detector at the entrance and bouncers wearing stab-proof vests. And presumably Pistache Clothing share that love for loud noises with all the gear they’ve got stacked up on this tee. It reminds me of one of my first ever reviews, in terms of both style and substance, and I still like that tee, so this one’s alright in my book.
Costiness=£19.99 Link
Just so we’re clear, this isn’t a
t-shirt blog, but if you send me a t-shirt, I’m not just gonna be walking around town shouting “hey! look at me and my awesome shirt!” I’m gonna review it, because that’s just the polite thing to do. Hell, you could send me a couple of stickers and I’d joyfully make a post about them.
Beandip Clothing were featured a month ago, and James from Beandip liked my write-up so much he sent a tee all the way from Florida to the UK.
I’m not just being nice when I say that it’s a really great tee, it looks even better in real life than on their site (as most tees do). The design is delightfully distressed, well, not distressed, kind of like a photocopy on a t-shirt, I dunno what to call it, as a clothes blogger I’m learning as I go along. Oooh, let’s call it ‘photostressed’.
My one is yellow (duh!), but they have a lot of other colours, and every shirt is made to order, which I guess explains why mine has the two guys on my side rather than further to the front, which I prefer, maybe James decdided that was a better look and hasn’t got round to changing the site yet.
Costiness=$18 URL here.
More shots of me taking pictures of myself in the bathroom after the jump (not quite as seedy or camwhore-y as it seems).
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