I went to see a Henry Rollins spoken word performance at Largo in LA. First up: Henry rocks! The occasion for this tour is his recent 50th birthday, and he delivered his monologue in the signature, rapid-fire style we’ve come to love, pontificating on a variety of topics that included how he knocked out a fan’s teeth at a Black Flag gig, read George Bush’s book aloud during a Costco visit, shared Stooges music with a kid during a trip across the globe, and hates shopping for clothes. Gulp. One woman’s passion is another man’s punishment, I guess. He pointed out his attire—a no-nonsense black T-shirt and black work pants (my guess: Dickie’s)—as evidence. But here’s the thing: he rocks the look. It’s his.
I have many years before I reach Henry’s milestone, but I’ve found one of the good things about growing older is the sense of comfort you gain with who you are and what you like. My own style uniform is not quite as basic as Henry’s, but it’s still pretty simple: I’m a jeans and T-shirt girl. It’s been that way since I was a teen (see photo of me in my “Feed the World” T-shirt—boy, do I wish I still had that shirt…) and I see no reason for growing out of this look. I am a treasure-hunter and a collector, always on the lookout for new jeans to add to my collection and for new tees to fill my heart with glee. (Actually, most of the tees I get now are from thrift shops and vintage sources, so newly acquired is just like new for me.) And now that I have figured out how best to use a pair of scissors, needle, and thread to upcycle any ordinary T-shirt, I see promise in every one that catches my eye….