Fifty Shades of Stain
This is my favourite white teeshirt. Or it was. It is, of course, no longer white.
I seem incapable of not spilling or splashing military-grade liquids on white teeshirts. As soon as I find one I love, it’s as though my inner labrador takes over, and I must dive headlong into the nearest mud puddle/oil well.
This one, from Vuori, lasted about three outtings.
It now has its very own permanent mystery stain - and it’s nothing to do with the dog. She’s just in shot is all.
If anybody has ever figured out how not to destroy their white tee shirts, I will immediately subscribe to your pamphlet.
Speaking for the whole of Melbourne - who wears white - weirdo.
I have started wearing an apron when cooking and washing up, which has helped somewhat but the oily destruction continues.