Open Writing

At Christmas time, I attempted to choose tasteful golf shirt for my husband. I dithered in front of the rack. There were only two shirts left in his size. One of the shirts was navy blue and I found myself reluctant to purchase this one as he, in his conservative, accountant-like way, already has a sea of blue of every conceivable hue in his wardrobe. "No", I thought to myself with determination, "I'm going to foist a radical change on him here. I'm going to buy the green one."

The trouble was that it wasn't plain green but was actually quite brave with black and white stripes as well - all of varying widths, sort of like a liquorice allsort. His face fell when he opened it on Christmas morning.

"Err, thanks---" He began to search for words.

Goodness!" my father interrupted and rescued him. "With a shirt like that you don't need a handicap, do you?"

This week I bought myself a woman's rugby jersey to add to my winter wardrobe. It was never meant to be authentic sports gear but simply a comfortable fashion item. With its pink and white horizontal stripes I thought it quite nifty, that is, until I put it on at home.

"Turn around, "grinned my son."Show Dad the number on your back."

I was mystified and perplexed when they fell about in conspiratorial laughter.

"What's so funny? I asked. "It's a number two."

"Yeah," they guffawed in unison, "number two in rugby denotes a hooker."

I had been well and truly conned into false advertising.

Over the years I have seen some amusing statements written on tee shirts. We have a rather rotund friend whose tee shirt reads" 'Fat people are harder to kidnap" His next favourite shirt says "I'm in no shape to exercise patience."

Our financial consultant friend deflects work conversations at parties by wearing a shirt which states "If you want my opinion, you'll have to pay for it." Our Italian friend, who is in the business of pouring new driveways, wears a shirt which proudly misquotes Julius Caesar, "I came. I saw. I concreted." A scientist uncle of mine used to wear a tee shirt which read, "Good scientists never die. They just smell that way." This was particularly apt because, at the time, he was busy researching organisms with which to break down raw effluent.

I know of a government funded school, which is tantalizingly situated on the beachfront here in Sydney, where the school motto embroidered on the school shirts is, "It's not okay to stay away." This is a futile attempt at counteracting the tendency for the schoolyard to empty whenever the surf's up. My son, on the other hand, who has the privilege of attending a privately funded school (where truancy is an expellable offence), has the motto, "Deus Dat Incrementum" on his school blazer. I am not completely certain but I think that it translates as, "What the deuce? The fees are increasing again."

When I was a student on campus in South Africa I found myself surrounded by a preponderance of politically motivated tee shirts. Right there, in the midst of the "Che Guevara" and "Free Mandela" clothing statements, one nonchalant student casually wore what appeared to be a tee shirt advertising a well known brand of Nestle chocolate. The picture on the front was of creamy wafers, covered in chocolate, which one can break into fingers to make for easy sharing. Underneath the highly recognisable red and white packaging was written what seemed, at first glance, to be the familiar marketing slogan which we all associate with this delicious snack, "Have a Break. Have a Kit Kat."

But it required a double take. On closer inspection it actually read:

"Have a break. Have a Kwik Krap."

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