Alabama Crimson Tide a rising tide lifts all boats shirt

Product Description

At just before Alabama Crimson Tide a rising tide lifts all boats shirt 9am on a bright April morning in Greenwich, south-east London, runners gather in the shadow of the Cutty Sark. There are just a few at first, then more and more until the group numbers around 40. It’s a little awkward (for a first-timer like me, at least) as we shiver and make small talk. But soon we coalesce to form a big circle and run through a warm-up before doing a gentle 5km around Blackheath – we’ll be installed in a local cafe by 10am. A version of this scene can be found up and down the country every weekend. Running seems to be more popular than ever – almost 580,000 people applied for this weekend’s London Marathon, an increase of 120,000 on the year before – but recently there has been a boom in casual, community-focused running clubs that organise regular turn-up-and-run events for people looking to supplement their training, meet new friends, or simply get out of the house.

Alabama Crimson Tide a rising tide lifts all boats shirt, hoodie, sweater, longsleeve and ladies t-shirt

Unisex shirt

Women’s shirt

Longsleeve shirt

Sweater

Hoodie

Fully on the Alabama Crimson Tide a rising tide lifts all boats shirt dress barely covers my chest – I can’t lean, bend or jump without flashing my reflection, and any large steps cause the super-high thigh slit to rise dangerously close to my ass. Standing still, though, I look good: sexy, trendy, youthful. But I quickly discover that the dress is too tight to pull over my head. How did I get in here? I shimmy and curse until I’m able to wrench the dress off me, where it springs back, tauntingly, to its original shape. Laid flat on the floor, the form is like a cartoon body: a perfect hourglass, smooth and dramatically curving. My new Shein clothes lie in a crumpled pile on my living room floor for a week. I can’t figure out what to do with them. Neither garment is particularly wearable, but the hassle of returning the pieces (or donating them, or selling them to a thrift store) seems absurd when they cumulatively cost me less than $15 to begin with. The idea of folding them up and placing them in my dresser alongside my other clothing feels defeating. I think briefly about trying to sew them into something new, but again – the hassle. Mostly I don’t think about them at all. The garments cost so little that I don’t feel pressure to make them fit my wardrobe, or my life. I’ve already forgotten why I wanted these particular clothes in the first place.