It’s tee time

Words by Shruti Janakiraman and Ariana Haghighi

“Do you understand what’s accent cuts through the sleepy humidity of an otherwise comfortable Gold Coast morning.

“Do you even know who that

It’s 6am on the G-Line and we are being accosted by a middle aged man. To his credit, he did not appear to be a lecher — standing a safe distance away, in unattractive voluntourism pants, beady eyes narrowed not at Ariana’s chest but at the image printed on her t-shirt. His tone was conversational, not combative and yet, his interjection into our conversation is no less welcome.

“I bet you have no idea who that is”. He presses on with an ability to be interesting, typical of white men.

Reluctantly we examine the graphic tee for ourselves. It’s a rendering of Sigmund Freud, painted a garish accompanied by a triangular rainbow. The caption reads “Pink Freud”. Is it Freud or Pink Floyd

“He was a great philosopher, you know. I have a philosophy degree too but they probably don’t teach you about him in school. No one knows who he is but it’s funny he’s on t-shirts now.”

Ariana and I look at each other with identical pained expressions, torn between reluctance to engage with this man and the type-A compulsion to correct a statement which is so plainly wrong. Even if we were inclined to explain that Freud was a psychoanalyst not a philosopher, and rather famous one at that, comprehending the real point of the t-shirt, the pun, was clearly beyond him.

No one understands graphic tees like we do…

Jack Whoppy

Ariana

Amidst drapey patterned fabric and zodiac sign gold necklaces lies a stark sight for any hipster market habitué. As you slowly approach the stall, squares of bright colours gawk back at you like a crowd. You squint to read their outlandish exclamations — “Pugs, not drugs” among one of the most damning. Psychedelic swirls and cartoon characters all wrap you up in an acid trip gone wrong — no, it’s a graphic Tee store.

Graphic tee store Jack at Glebe Markets, and an occasional visitor on Eastern Avenue during a USU market day. It is also a personal favourite of mine, a dreamland from which I draw most of my clothing inspirations.

Jack Whoppy is a graphic tee store paragon. Each shirt encapsulates the true essence of graphic tees — garishness — despite taking on radically the Graphic tee is not in the composition of the shirt itself, but rather how it moulds the the reaction of onlookers.

Take it from me, a seasoned Graphic tee wearer. Each Graphic tee has its own personality, and its own objective — much like us, there is a reason why each Graphic tee was thrust into the world.

On one Jack Whoppy lays a grayscale Marco Polo, his eyes cast to the side. Below him, in uppercase serif font: “Yeah, I pretty much never sit by the pool anymore”. Initially, the nonchalance seems like a wisecrack settles into your mind, you let out a guttural chuckle. The tee weaves a children’s game with a sense of historical esoterism, punching the audience with a hit of nostalgia and appreciation for sophisticated humour.

Another Jack Whoppy tee that immediately grabs my eye also fuses the past with present, so much so that they collide in a burst of colour and confusion. On the right is a pale pink Galileo, accompanied by the ornate lettering: “Thunderbolt and lightning, very very frightening me”. Much like the Marco Polo tee, this shirt’s merit lies in pop culture reference sparking amusement at its absurdity.

Other Jack Whoppy tees are less layered, but maintain a canonical graphic tee quality of confrontation. Printed on a sickening tie-dye tee is an image of a skull, accompanied by a speech bubble bearing: “I live inside your face.” Apart from being the most colourful memento mori I’ve ever seen, this design is testament to the truth that some of the best graphic tees are devoid of deeper meaning. Rather, they fashion some of life’s simplest facts into a carousel of colour.

Todd Sampson

Shruti rewarded with hundreds of online fans (a high watermark for the ABC), a dedicated Tumblr page, and unnecessarily-detailed analyses of which of his T-Shirts “speak volumes”.

Yet, despite the high brow esoterism of this medium, the graphic tee phenomenon indie market (as the most vocal purveyors of graphic tees may hope). The humble graphic tee models, mass-produced by fast fashion labels like Forever 21, and championed by every TVpresenter hoping to wear their personality.

No one is more guilty of this than the ABC’s Todd Sampson, known for television marvels such as Gruen and that show where he does weird shit to test his brain. In each role, his messaging is clear: I am fun! I am unusual!

Critical to this branding strategy is Todd’s graphic tee collection. For each episode he chooses or himself designs a pun or some form of cultural commentary to demonstrate his relatability. And it has worked.

Far from being disdainful, I myself am a Todd Sampson fan. My favourite T-shirt of his features a picture of journalist Laura Tingle, with the caption “you’ve been Tingled.” It’s delightfully nonsensical. It captures the essence of what sets graphic tees apart from other clothing: their ability to marry whimsy with cultural icons, simultaneously signalling the wearer’s interests and sense of humour — the perfect introduction to their character.

Graphic tees do literally speak for themselves — but you must ask not only what graphic tees can do for you, but what you can do for graphic tees. Analyse them. Celebrate them. Wear them.

Images courtesy of https://toddsampsonstshirts.tumblr.com/

National March on Washington for Lesbian and Gay Rights, October 1979. Image couresty of Larry Butler.