I'm disaster and I know it

According to The Guardian's TV reviewer, I'm a disaster as I buy t-shirts by the truckload. I disagree. A quick wardrobe count reveals that I've broken the centenary landmark which I don't think ranks as Towering Inferno levels of disaster, although capsule collection it definitely ain't.

The humble t-shirt is by far my favourite item of clothing, in the menswear stakes it's second only to footwear. We can all thank the US Navy for creating an undergarment for their uniforms during the Spanish-American war. Or maybe Marlon Brando for tearing up the screen in the iconic white t-shirt in A Streetcar Named Desire. Whilst the shape and fabric choices haven't altered much since the original garments, its place in fashion certainly has. And thank god for that, I can't imagine anything worse than having to don the Sunday suit for going down to t'club for pints and billiards on a Friday night. A t-shirt is altogether easier to wear and feel at ease wearing.

A good few years back I discovered the joys of screen printing using fabric paint. I churned out a substantial amount of t shirts, very few people avoided receiving a printed garment for birthday or christmas, as opposed to a proper present. I even sold one, a design hailing the stylings of the moustache featuring Burt Reynolds caught someone's eye in the pub. 20 quid easily made.

I say easily, in reality it was nothing but. The printing technique I used involved cutting out stencils (time consuming) for the print design and carefully placing these on to the fabric. I then utilised a mesh screen and a squeegee to apply the paint. Often the print would smudge so I'd either have to rectify using paintbrushes (time consuming) or start over with a new t shirt and stencil (effing time consuming). So I fell out with screen printing altogether.

Recently I made a (for me) revolutionary discovery. You can create your own t-shirts and have them printed for a relatively cheap cost. I'll be damned! Print companies have obviously been doing this for donkeys but somehow I didn't make the connection, I figured they only sell to hen and stag dos. So once I realised I could rediscover my t-shirt mojo, I've unsurprisingly gone to town. I'm disaster and I know it. I've got 5 of them so far, I used Vistaprint and Streetshirts, another batch is at the printers, and I've got at least another 2 designs that are yet to be realised.

I came across the phrase on Facebook and immediately thought I need to 'borrow' that one. Such an apt statement. The world would be a better place if it was just a font and not some minimally talented pop starlet.

I love Madonna. Love, love, love. The first album of hers I bought was True Blue on cassette in Seoul in 1987 so as a homage I figured I'd create a replica of the t-shirt she wears in the Papa Don't Preach video when she first locks eyes with the mulleted hunk whose baby she's keeping. Stone cold classic, song, video, the lot.

I recently went to the excellent Daydreaming with Stanley Kubrick exhibition at Somerset House, combining works in a range of media, inspired by Kubrick and his movies. This painting by Paul Insect which riffs on A Clockwork Orange caught my eye and channelling my inner Julian Opie, I set about recreating the design in Photoshop. The copyright infringing end result is one I'm particularly chuffed with,

Sam Fox featured prominently in my adolescence. In my case it was obviously not for her sizeable bosoms, rather for her musical output. Say what?!?!?! Yes siree, I had her first 3 albums, as well as the remix version of her first album. Her singles were all corkers, album tracks more quality diverse, more often than not referencing her page 3 past with titles such as Touch Me (I Want To Feel Your Body), Naughty Girls (Need Love Too), Hurt Me, Hurt Me (But The Pants Stay On), Love House, and Do Ya, Do Ya (Wanna Please Me). The Sam Fox appreciation society starts here. 

Another pop music reference. This time riffing the often used way of printing the members of classic bands. What better way to chart the most ridiculous band (in terms of fall outs and line up changes) in pop history, the Sugababes. I might sell the design concept to Mutya to add to her Sugababes stationery range. 

This is essentially why I love t-shirts, using the blank canvas you can go create whatever you want. A funny t-shirt, a poignant t-shirt, a celebratory t-shirt, a promotional t-shirt. And Sam Fox. People have the power

I'm a blogger, I'm a smogger, I'm a midnight togger

Roundabout this time 3 years ago, my ex and I was featured in a BBC2 documentary exploring different couples' approach to managing finances and the impact money had on the relationship. I was profiled as a care-free shopaholic with a penchant for t-shirts and free range eggs. As a minor claim to fame, I was subsequently described as 'a disaster, who buys t-shirts by the truckload' by the resident TV reviewer at The Guardian. Although there's probably an element of truth in that particular description, I prefer to view it less as chaotic disruption and more measured frivolity.

The basic premise for this blog is to chronicle my spending, a kind of visual representation of my bank statement. I intend to write a blog post every time I spend money on non-essential material things for myself over the next year or so and see if over time it causes me to re-examine my approach to parting with money.

The idea for the blog came from a hungover (me) conversation with my dear friend @JeanetteLeech on her sofa in Harringay. J is a writer by profession, check out her acid folk opus "Seasons They Change", and holds the written word in high esteem. She also undertook a 52 week blog project with her friend Jude the other year so she's got previous. Initially I figured I'd start the blog in January as a way of ushering in the new year but then as it so happens today is that most revered day of the month: payday. It all begins today therefore.

I've just returned home to Sheffield after spending 5 days in London. I work for Breast Cancer Care, the UK wide charity supporting people affected by breast cancer, and was down at our head office for a 2 day course and a project meeting, interspersed with leisure time. I can heartily recommend a visit to Institute of Sexology at Wellcome Collection which opened last week. Amongst the items on display are a rather impractical vibrator and a scary looking anti-masturbation device. The main focus however is on the pioneers of sex research such as Kinsey and Von Krafft-Ebing, the latter's 19th century work "Psychopathia Sexualis" introduced me to a whole range of sexual deviancies I frankly had no clue existed. 'Mania, or theft of, women's handkerchiefs' anyone?

I of course found some time to do a spot of non-Christmas shopping, and happened across the below garment in Zara's new Oxford Street flagship store

I'm by no means a Zaraholic, and at £19.99 it's possibly the most money I've ever spent on a single t-shirt, but it took me all of 5 seconds to grab it and run for the tills. As it turns out it was actually a rather crucial purchase as later that day I managed to wreck a shirt by attempting to iron it using the carpet in my hotel room as ironing board (yes, I really am that stupid). So if I'd not bought the t-shirt I would've had to walk round London at night with a bit of Travelodge stuck on me and that would've been a real disaster.