The Perfect White T-Shirt
memories fade, but the stains still linger
I’ve been caught up in an all-consuming love/hate affair with the Perfect White T-shirt. Well, the search for one, really.
When I say ‘Perfect White T-shirt,’ I hope to evoke imagery of one paired with the best vintage Levi’s possible or a sleek ‘90s minimalist skirt and sandals, usually touting a cool bag in one hand and a latte in the other. It’s not cropped, not too baggy or tight, the sleeves aren’t too short or too long, the collar isn’t too thick, and it exudes a vintage vibe but isn’t actually vintage, because if it was, there would be stains all over it (I’ve learned the hard way). And of course, the person behind the Perfect White T-shirt seems effortlessly chic (and very thin) too. The women who pull off wearing these t-shirts are really in a category of their own, one that means they’re gorgeous enough to make a plain White T shine, and I wanted so desperately to be part of that tier too.
If you’re more of a visual person, this is what I mean:
You see, I’ve been searching for this type of shirt for months. I’m still not fully convinced it exists. I thought that it would be that one thing I’m missing from my spring/summer wardrobe, and that finding the elusive Perfect White T would transform me into Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy or Zoe Kravitz, or the other unattainable women I see on my For You pages.
I’ll spare you the details of the months of searching for a shirt that was actually worthwhile. When I finally found it on a whim on a trip to Old Navy for flip-flops, I texted my partner, “I DID IT,” bought four of the exact same white ones, then one in gray and one in black, and I quite literally wore nothing but those Old Navy t-shirts for two weeks straight. I paired them with a black maxi skirt and kitten heels one evening, then a variety of vintage jeans, one under a blazer at the office, one with a pair of linen pants and flip-flops. I wore minimal makeup during this time and tousled my hair. On dog walks or walks to go grab coffee, I was convinced that people were looking at my t-shirt and wondering how I ever found such a thing. It was my little secret that it took me months to obsessively find it, and that despite maybe looking effortless, it took a lot of effort to do so. I was that girl I saw in the pictures, I thought, for at least a couple of weeks.
The high inevitably wore off, as it does every single time you find that one thing you thought would change your life forever. Despite attempts to keep the shirts pristine, one of my shirts now has a coffee stain, the other has stains from my dog’s anal gland popping on me while I was picking him up, the collar of one of them is already stained with makeup — I’m down to just one of those “perfect” shirts, until that too becomes just another designated sleep shirt. Ironically, I haven’t felt the urge to replace them just yet, even though they’re still in stock at Old Navy last time I checked.
In hindsight — it was never actually about a fucking t-shirt. I used that t-shirt, and the journey to find it, for something deeper — perhaps a boost in self-confidence amidst personal struggles, such as my weight gain and aging in general (which, if I go deeper, is narrowed down to trying to be more in control, which frankly is impossible). I pinned my hopes on that White T-shirt to make me feel like the effortlessly cool bystander in the park, the chic editor in the office, the mysterious girl at the coffee shop, and I convinced myself I couldn’t be those things without having one. I was just using it as an excuse — “Once I have ______, I’ll be _______.”
The shirt gave me a fleeting glimpse of what it might feel like to embody qualities I admired in others who wear them. Those women seem to have their shit together. They’re in control, effortlessly of course. They can go grab a coffee without thinking about their weight the entire time. They can go on a leisurely walk in that little White T without thinking about the world ending. Maybe they throw it on and don’t have a crisis about realizing they want kids, badly, but also not wanting them to suffer in a world like this.
But, maybe they do.
We often convince ourselves that a certain new item, haircut, or new job, or moving to a new city, will fundamentally change us, and that’s rarely the case. Maybe temporarily it will give you the boost you need, but as the stains accumulate and the novelty fades, we’re left facing ourselves again. You know the saying — wherever you go, there you are.
In my case, whatever you wear, there you are.
Outline by Rachel Cusk — ideal for anyone, especially writers, who are anticipating a European vacation this summer, specifically in a sweltering hot city near a sea (right up my alley! I am a writer who will be lounging around on a Mediterranean island soon!!). The novel starts with the narrator on the airplane on her way to teach a writer’s workshop in Greece. From there, she meets numerous characters who all divulge stories about their own lives, which encourages her to reflect on her own.
The Sopranos — so sorry to all of my friends who have had to hear me gab about starting this iconic HBO show for the first time. Can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this masterpiece my entire life. Most importantly, I’m getting a lot of outfit inspo through Adriana, and a lot of jewelry inspo from all the mob guys.
Espresso & Tonic — I don’t want to drink any cow’s milk, oat milk, or gin these days, so I’ve found the best of both worlds. I’m obsessed with espresso & tonics from Kokomo on Parsons and of course at Parable lately. Even if one of them ruined one of the aforementioned Perfect White T-shirts...
Greasy ass bowling alley food — I swear to god that some of the best snacks come from bowling alley kitchens. Best shared with your friends on a double date.
Bet you thought I was gonna say a perfect white t-shirt, huh???
Keeping you on your toes and going with capris! I found these stretchy black ones in the capri section of the thrift store, and please trust me when I say there were like a hundred more to choose from. I paired it with vintage Ralph Lauren pointed toe kitten heels, and a vintage, A-lined strapless top.
This is the album of the summer, declared by moi
Have a great week! I mean it!
xoxo Sav