I don't know much but I do know . . .

Rewind to last year. A t-shirt arrived, as things do when this is what you do, and almost without me noticing it became the one. I started wearing it with my favourite white linen shorts. Not off-white, not ecru, the really white ones, the pair so crisp they make every other tee in my drawer look faintly grubby and a little embarrassed of itself. Every white tee I owned looked dingy next to them. Except this one. This one sat against them perfectly, like it had been cut for exactly that job, but because of the clever fabric and it’s ever so slight translucency it wasn’t scary white when I wore it.

So I wore it. A lot. A lot a lot. The kind of a lot where you start to wonder if people think you only own one top, and then decide you don’t much care because it’s that good.

It was the neckline that did it. The detail was so beautifully crafted, so considered, that it felt like a genuine cut above everything hanging next to it. Not a basic at all. A proper piece, just dressed up as one.

Fast forward to a few months ago. I was chatting to the brand and mentioned, half offhand, that I really wished they made more tees. Funny you should say that, came the reply, we’ve got a whole load launching soon. Reader, you can picture my face.

Cut to now. The load has landed, and I have been quietly, happily wearing my way through the ones I got to road test, oh how I love my job. So consider this the full debrief: every t-shirt currently on rotation in my wardrobe, why each one earns its place, and exactly how I’m wearing them . . .

T-shirts, of course. Let’s get into it.

This image really shows you the details that got me good, that thick but rough neckline, the ever so slight translucency that harks to it already been washed 100 times because it’s your fav vintage tee, the drape, the cut, so perfectly fitted in the right places but not clinging in the slightest, THE DREAM long sleeved white tee

Read more