Short sleeve sweatshirts are pretty out there when it comes to style. You could look like Rocky and Steve McQueen or you could look like a picture taken in 1981 of the uncle you can’t fucking stand because he’s always saying shit like, “Do you even know what a bench press is?” Fuck outward appearances, it’s all about what you see in your own head. You need to delve inward. In my head, if I put on a sweatshirt like this Battenwear joint, I’d hear Mick’s voice in my ear all day. I would be contemplating Chipotle vs. Qdoba, starting to doubt my lunch game and then, Mick would come in, “YOU’RE A MURDERER MOY, A MURDERER.” And then I’d be like, “Fuck yeah, I’m a murderer! Chipotle on deck, baby!” Also, because I eat a lot of fast food, I have to work out and by work out I mean sometimes I take a flight of stairs instead of an escalator. I need to at least pretend I care about my body. Catch me buying really nice athletic gear to wear while eating terrible versions of food that really isn’t that hard to cook yourself.
