>> How to describe the ins and outs of a party shirt? I find this fairly difficult without sounding like a horrid judgemental bitch. Oh well, I'll just plough on seeing as evidently I eat my words anyway. The party shirt. Beloved by men folk who feel the need to buy a different shirt each week to venture into town on the pull (i.e. cruising for chicks) much like girls need a new sparkly halter neck top to catch their prey. Why is it called a party shirt? "It's loud and garish and you'd never wear it anywhere that wasn't dark, sweaty with thumping music in the background." Steve's words not mine. You're mistaken if you think this fairly tasteful party shirt selection on ASOS is a true representation of the typical men's party shirt. Like the novelty tie, the accompanying party shirt are more than likely to go to the butt end of fabric selections – horrid florals, shiny two tone fabrics where sweat patches are likely to show up in prominent places and terrifying geometrics designed to catch the disco ball light that is inevitably above.
My only line of defence in being able to venture out in the female equivalent of the party shirt, is that I'm not a beer belching man, who's on the mission for a rohypnol-filled night out. Still, I fully own up to being brutally loud and garish with these reissued Versace print and Louise Gray abstract shirts. They join a whole rack of 'party shirts' that are terrifyingly unleashed in broad daylight, beyond the dark and dank nightclub. What's even worse is my propensity to want to layer on print on print on print just to amplify the epilepsy-inducing effect of the party shirt, especially with the Versace barocco print. The Louise Gray shirt with its flaps and fade in-and-out print effects has slightly more clarity about it. It is afterall a maximalist take on a basic white shirt. The short of it is that I had better keep it schtum in the future when scoffing at the concept of the male party shirt and think about my own cacophony of a shirt rail in the wardrobe.