today i’m wearing my michael bolton t-shirt, an experience that always puts me in a fantabulous mood because of the reactions it provokes. i just saw didi outside the library and she laughed her ass off. the shirt is from his 1991 “time, love, and tenderness” tour, and features a likeness of the great man himself on the front, flowing curls and all. it’s quite hideous, but hilarious.
i like to wear it when i work @ the cafe, because about half the customers who notice snicker and tell me it’s great, and the other half are sincere michael bolton fans happy to have found a peer. which i’m actually not: call me an imposter, but i think MB stinks. however, i appreciate his construction of a masculine aesthetic, in a post-modern analytical sense.
besides which, the shirt is second-generation romantic plunder: it originally belonged to my ex’s ex. i know it’s silly, but these sorts of things thrill me.