Naming teams after racist epithets with racist mascots is, well, racist. (Pat Bolduc, Courtesy of A Tribe Called Red)

It’s a really great t-shirt, and I don’t say that about t-shirts often. By flipping a symbol of both capitalistic opportunism and, of course, blatant racism into a literal image of those two things, this shirt really hammers home what the Cleveland Indians franchise is doing on a daily basis: profiting off mean-spirited caricatures that offend the people it supposedly "honors."

And some white dude wrote a letter and called it racist! That’s amazing! Good on you, designer.

I really want this shirt, but here is where some conflict arises. Clothes and personal style are shorthand guides to someone’s personality, opinions and worldview. Whether you appreciate it or not, people make judgments of you based on how you look, and clothing decides an overwhelmingly large proportion of these assumptions, regardless of whether you take an active or passive approach to your style.

Personally, I take an active approach. I pick and choose garments that I want to represent me and, by now, people know this about me. What I’ve come to learn, however, is that if you’re trying to make a statement, you better know what statement you’re making. The shirt itself makes an overwhelmingly agreeable critique of an offensive social norm: naming teams after racist epithets with racist mascots is, well, racist. The shirt isn’t revolutionary as much as it is, itself, opportunistic: it turns the tables on us white folks and is making some scratch off the idea in the meantime. So here I am, agreeing that that the Indians and Redskins teams are harmful for the image of the Native American and respecting the hustle of whoever designed this garb, so I should be cool to cop, right? Well…

My fear is that by wearing it, I will muddle the message. A really cool part of clothing is its transformative nature. The outfit takes on properties of the wearer. And while I obviously pay far too much attention to this stuff, other people subconsciously notice it too. Not everyone can be James Dean in a white tee and some jeans. Moving on.

When I wear something, I wear it because it’s dope. If I wear something ugly, I’m wearing it because it’s “good ugly” and “freakin’ sweet,” and my demeanor will give off that vibe. People don’t have to agree that what I’m wearing is the flyest fit at the party, but every interaction with me will undoubtedly impress this personal conviction upon you. Basically, I’m always stuntin’, and there isn’t an ounce of irony to it.

This shirt though is ironic in the most literal sense of the word, definitely not the Alanis Morissette version. We are expecting one thing (Indians) and getting another (Caucasians). But as established, I don’t wear irony. So why do I like it? Because after absorbing the message, my thoughts went like, “Oh ish! Look, it’s me as a sports team’s mascot, CEO Woohoo! I’ve never been a mascot before. This is pretty rad! Started from at the top of the patriarchal social order as a blonde-haired white guy and now I’m here!”

Let’s walk through a brief, probable interaction if I get this shirt:

Cute, Socially Conscious Girl: “Wow, that’s a really powerful shirt.”

Me: “Yea, it’s super dope. Look at that cute lil' guy! He’s just like me! He’s literally always got money on his mind! Lol, this is an awesome shirt.”

Then of course I could go on to explain how White Male Privilege blinds people to the opportunism, greed and racism that make a moniker like Chief Wahoo offensive, but will I? Nah, that stuff takes time, and by now Cute, Socially Conscious Girl has left in disgust of my self-indulgent rant, so the shirt has already got a bad reputation.

Even if I did spit out a rational justification before she ran off, my general demeanor would deflate the shirt of all its conscious irony to every other observer who notices me getting on up around campus. “Will this shirt make me look like a white supremacist?” is a question that I usually don’t have to answer about clothes since I lack a Coke Boys outfit, but here I am asking it.

The more important corollary, though, is whether I’m doing more harm than good for a movement of rightful acceptance. I’m appropriating something that is radical and anti-establishment as someone who looks exactly like The Establishment, and is that fair to a group advocating change? Maybe I could become more involved in the fight and “earn” my right to wear the shirt, but to be honest, that’s probably not going to happen beyond the scope of internet think-pieces and petitions. Though the cause will have my support until it is no longer needed, I’m not going to be on the front lines. I’m not a Social Warrior just yet; I’m only a guy who cares way too much about style and sports currently.

Celebrating a funny caricature of yourself and sending a social message aimed at people who look like you aren’t necessarily mutually exclusive modes of thought. People’s motivations are complex in a complex world. But a tee is probably not the right medium to express all of these conflicting ideas, at least not for me. Sometimes you just have to respect the limits of a medium, even when it means regretting not copping a dope tee.

If you do know that you can rock this shirt, they also make a hoodie, which is way doper because more material = more dope.

If you love being heavy-handed, there’s this one. And if you are more anti-brunette, go for this other one.

Support a young man/woman on his/her hustle.

Contact Contributor Danny Galvin here.