I Don’t Get Fashion: “ME!”
Okay, this shirt is patently absurd, but it’s so bad that it’s actually kind of intriguing and mesmerizing.
While I’d never personally wear it, I’m completely entertained by its existence. Anyone want to hazard a guess as to what the statement of this garment may be (aside from the obvious)?
All I could come up with is “Head of the Narcissist Convention.”
SheWalksSoftly 
July 8, 2014 at 5:44 pm
It makes me think of when I was pregnant and complete strangers would want to touch my belly. I always found it really creepy and my me zone would be totally out of whack for ages after I had been assaulted. I may have worn this in black if it had a chance of deterring people from molesting my baby baby belly lol
July 9, 2014 at 12:31 am
Oooooh…I like the idea of wearing this as a warning! 🙂
July 8, 2014 at 11:08 pm
Sheesh. WHo would buy this without proper punctuation? I could see if someone was always saying “Hey, You!” and the shirt corrects them, but otherwise I have no idea. Well, maybe it is not about us, but to them it is all about “Me.”
July 8, 2014 at 11:46 pm
I think it’s pertaining to the adage ‘…Some ME time’. Dumb ass shirt. Unless I’m completely off the mark and it is meant to slogan self-centeredness and shallow hearts. Sadly, that’s truth about the majority of people, it’s about – ME, MY ‘SELFIE”, and I.
If Billboards were cheap, the streets and highways would be littered with everyone’s big, grinning, smiling faces and contact information below it, so they can have a gazillion friends in high hopes they become supremely cool, get laid nonstop, and go down in legend when they finally croak duly because, but not limited to, their inflated heads finally exploding, or slipping and cracking aforementioned inflated head wide open preoccupied taking their millionth phone selfie.
My latest witnessing of gross narcissism was just today. After lunch, in my Hannaford supermarket, a disabled elderly lady stuck seated in her handicapped motorized cart in the produce department was trying to load red potatoes into a cumbersome plastic bag. But she was consistently missing the bag’s slot and every other potato was falling to the floor on this poor helpless lady beside herself with grief and embarrassment. These four pieces of shit twenty something college punks simply ignored her, stepped over the potatoes giggling and when they reached the deli counter took a selfie of themselves together, because you’re not cool until you do that at the deli with Boar’s Head cold cuts in the background; then the girl took a freakin’ pic of the old woman and texted it I just know.
Well, yes, I helped the lady, picked-up the potatoes, loaded clean new ones in her bag and told her if she’s A-OK I’ll be floating around grocery shopping if she needs my assistance. Her name was Ellie.
July 9, 2014 at 12:39 am
I hope for every selfie-snapping halfwit out there, there’s a kind potato-helper. Sadly, I think the ratio largely favors the halfwits.
July 9, 2014 at 2:40 am
Have you never said the phrase “That shirt is totally me” or “I don’t think that is really me”. So that is “Me”… get it? I guess thats what it means… right?