The first reaction to the shirt: You look like something out of Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory
I found it hard to wear the shirt – especially since I was making a visit to the office and not to the nearest beach.
This shirt needs to be embellished with something more somber – a grey cardigan perhaps, or a black jacket. The colours -- candy stripes on salmon pink— are too cheerful for me even on a Friday. It was bright, gauche and gleeful, all unbecoming of me.
The shirt, if it’s to be worn right, needs a great sense of self assuredness, a heightened lack of self awareness, a trust fund, artistic sensibilities, psycho-pharmaceuticals. I have none of those things.
If Pablo Picasso had to pick up girls he would do it in this shirt. I would just be called an asshole.
The shirt’s very ‘Mediterranean’ – sundried tomatoes and balmy weather. It wouldn’t be out of place in Rome, or on a warm dark night on some Spanish stairs. On a rainy day in Bombay it looks very out of place.
I ‘ll wear it when I paint my masterpiece
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