A Deeper V

My roommate Blanton is a fashion aficionado - an afashionado. He dresses well. At his encouragement last spring, I bought two deep v-necks from American Apparel. These shirts are wonderfully comfortable, but when I wear them I feel like I'm naked.

Please understand - in the summer, you cannot beat a deep v-neck. I wore my two shirts at camp every day, to the extent that by the shirts I was defined. I became the guy with incredibly low necklines; the man with too much visible chest hair.

This past weekend I went with a group of fifteen year olds that I mentor in a cell group to a retreat at the camp where I worked this summer. In honor of the camp, and just to screw with my guys, I wore one of my deep v's. I didn't bring any other clothes (I'm not very motivated when it comes to hygene; I would rather spend the weekend in the same clothes and not pack a bag, than have a hundred percent assurance that I will not contract a fungus).

My guys became obsessed with the deepness of the v. A game was played, where these kids would try to sneak up on me, then yell, "Deep V Strike!" and try to stick their entire arm through the v, down my shirt, and out the other side. They strechted the neckline maybe two inches; I now have a Deeper V. And this game culminated when one of the guys, Sam, yelled, "Deep V Strike!" and jumped head first into the mummy style sleeping bag I was in. I thought I was going to be brought up on charges.

I was asked this weekend whether I wore the shirts for comfort, or because it was cool. In answer I told this story: when I first got my shirts in the mail, I put one on and went out with friends to dinner. After dinner, the sun had set and the air was a little cold. I put on a windbreaker, and when I zipped it up, I caught my open chest hair in the zipper. It was then I knew I was just wearing the shirt because it was cool.