Here's to Paint Splattered Activism...

I’m not a fan of a slogan T-shirt. Some people love them. Fair play to them. But for me, the inner sparkle of Christmas would become tarnished if I were to emblazon Prosecc-ho Ho Ho across my chest during the social whirl of December. It's just not me. Likewise, as empowering as Girl Power or Sassy Since Birth may be to some, I’m not sure telling people I AM something is as effective as simply BEING that same thing. But it takes all sorts. Far be it from me to tell others what to wear. Not on my watch. Slip into whatever you like, if it makes you happy. It's me that has the issue.

Image taken from eBay

The tricky tightrope I have to walk is when it comes to charitable support and political protest. The second there's a whiff of some activism in the offing, there will always be a T-shirt printed to raise money for the cause. I have no problem with this at all. Indeed, after that Supreme Court hearing two weeks ago, it was hugely gratifying to see the love for Lady Hale and the law, be espoused through the production and sale of a T-shirt - a plain black top with a strategic spider playing the role of her brooch. By the following day, the sale of the T-shirts had raised £15,000 for the charity Shelter. It’s hard to argue with that, and I don’t plan to do so here. 

In fact, the truth is, I have plenty of politically slogan-ed T-shirts all of my own. Just because my fashion sensibilities dictate I am unlikely to wear them outside, I still want to financially support the cause they are highlighting. In fact, I am a true fashion pioneer. In order to negate the fact that I'm not really sartorially comfortable in a high neck, I like to artistically slash them across the collar bone for a Kids from Fame style off the shoulder look. It’s my gift to the fashion world. (Jeff Banks, you are welcome.) Fabulous customised neckline or not, I still prefer to avoid lettering across my chest when I am out and about in the world. It seems unfair to reprimand a perv whose eyes are focused on my chest, if I’ve given him a catchy slogan to read as he tries to maintain eye contact. No, my political T-shirts are relegated to the bedroom. They are usually oversized, comfy, and the perfect thing to sleep in on the nights I'm trying to be socially provocative, not actually provocative. (That'll be all nights, then). 

But something rather lovely occurred to me last week. I was looking for something to paint in. Not in a watercolours and easel way, but more of a Dulux and dust sheet vibe. Rather than ruin something I wear for realsies  I went to my PJ drawer and looked at my slogan tops. The usual suspects were there. Bollocks to Boris, Bitches Against Brexit, All I Want for Christmas Are My Reproductive Rights... all good options, all things I wear in bed and not outside. Then I saw the one I knew I would use. No More Page Three. It’s my longest serving slogan top. It’s been washed and washed and washed. The white of the lettering comes off every time I wear it now. But here’s the thing. The campaign was successful. The T-shirts worked. More or less. Page Three in all its tacky, dumbed down, and patronising infamy was laid to rest back in 2015. From The S*n, anyway. I believe it still exists in less widespread tabloids if you're really desperate for it. But the campaign against the ‘most read UK newspaper’* was a success. With that in mind, using the campaign T-shirt to get covered in paint seemed like a fitting decision to make. It is past tense. Its power is no longer needed. I wore it as I painted the hell out of doors, frames, dado rails, and bannisters. I got it plastered in paint with no need to worry that I'd need to dust it off for a march or rally at a later date. 

Now with added paint splatters

One day it will be lovely to look back at all these slogan T-shirts and consign them to history. It would be lovely for them all to be relegated to painting clothes because we've actually and decisively said Bollocks to Boris. Or that Northern Ireland has the same reproductive rights as the rest of the UK. Or that Prosecco Ho Ho Ho. Whatever that means. 

Have a lovely week, folks. 

*Not 'most read' in Liverpool since the city-wide boycott. A fact that never fails to make me proud of my home city.