Sunday, July 19, 2009

Presidential Assassin Clothing




I have a ball cap that says 'Hinckley' on it but no one ever asks me about it. It's a real shame, because I've always wanted to tell people that it's from the 'Unsuccessful Presidential Assassin' collection. Of course I'm referring to John Hinckley Jr., the ever so slightly deranged chap who had the 'pie in the sky' idea that his chances of dating actress Jodie Foster would be greatly improved by killing Ronald Reagan. Neither of his half-baked homework assignments were completed successfully, though he did get an E for effort, and a one way ticket into a mental institution. I'll give him an F for 'what the f___ were you thinking'? Clearly he was off his rocker, not unlike Wham fans.

People have been sending messages on their clothes for decades, if not centuries. One notable example was the band Wham who popularized the billboard t-shirt in the mid-1980s with their 'choose life' shirts. These shirts became all the rage with millions of rabid fans and we're still seeing them to this day. Wake me up, before you go-go kill-kill the-the president-dent. On second thought, George Michael, let me sleep in, and for god's sake, would you please shave before you go out and shoot a publicly elected official, or another video!

Almost every t-shirt that I own broadcasts some sort of message or advertisement. It's not that I want a t-shirt that says Adidas, Nike or Pickett's Porta-Potties, but if the price is right during the Regent Mall sidewalk sale, this half-Scottish boy can't resist.
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I don't go to the mall much these days. When I do, I'm always on a mission, though my missions magically seem to chart a course past La Senza, Canada's half-hearted attempt to emulate Victoria's Secret. I try not to look at the fourteen foot high poster of a semi-nude hottie wearing lacy peach panties, lest I should go blind, but once in a while I'll inadvertently catch a glimpse. When she releases me from her Vulcan mind meld, I usually cast my eyes down, only to find myself staring at a pair of a pair of tiny billboard bloomers in the display window (they never window dress with the plus sizes). Some people must get pleasure from wearing concealed underwear with messages on them, because clearly the undie mongers are selling them. Those wearing them are the same type of sickos who wear Toronto Maple Leaf jerseys under their trench coats, and then flash people.
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I've never quite understood the logic of literary lingerie. If you're standing in front of me in your undies, it's unlikely any message beyond 'take them off' or 'here, put these ski pants on' enters my little reptilian brain.
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Napoleon Bonaparte liked to enter battle wearing his satin Miss France 1809 sash. He maintained that it distracted the British. Cleopatra did the same two thousand years ago, when she wore her treasured 'kiss my asp' tank top to dinner. No one at the banquet got the joke, but people weren't much into foreshadowing back then.
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Some people, or companies, aren't into heady amounts of forethought either. My research into labelled underwear took me to an article about the Disney company who, at one point, were marketing underwear to girls with the message 'dive in'. The 'dive in' slogan was innocently lifted from a High School Musical 2 scene, but some parents weren't too impressed. Disney, to their credit, quickly removed the controversial product, but neglected to recall their line of Minnie skirts.
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My hat says Hinckley on it not because of some murderous freak of nature, but rather in reference to a yacht builder in Maine. The Hinckley Company of Southwest Harbor (ME) create some of the nicest yachts the world has ever seen. They seamlessly marry old world craftsmanship with new age technology and materials. I'd do almost anything to own one, though I wouldn't attempt to kill a president, that's just nuts.
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I could be convinced to pie a former Prime Minister however.

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