Greetings, dear readers!  I am quite pleased that you have chosen to read this little pamphlet;  by reading further, you will be both enlightened and amused, i'm sure.  I have taken it upon myself to examine the recent yet un-fathomable resurgence in popularity of the men's tank undershirt, commonly called the "wife-beater."  Yes, this popularity is quite unfounded as well as inexplicable.  Therefore, in this writing, I will attempt to uncover possible reasons for this strange and greatly undeserved love affair with a piece of white cotton, and then prove why these possible answers to the phenomenon are absurd.  Furthermore, I will supply reasons of my own, establishing the need to allow the wife-beater to fall back on the rag-heap, and become a fashion obscurity, not unlike the formerly beloved parachute pants, or the once ubiquitous "acid wash."

The wife-beater was long the mainstay of men's undershirts.  Men of the last few generations wore the wife-beater because, simply, it was their only choice.  Now the question of whether an undershirt is at all necessary will not here be dealt with, and that is for two reasons:  (1) the subject of this treatise is specific rather than broad; a discussion of "Undershirts: Yes or No" could lead us down myriad subsequent paths, from which we may never come full circle back to the matter at hand (2) I find the need for an undershirt of any kind to be self-evident; any fellow with even an iota of class and/or upbringing should find the idea of a cool Egyptian broadcloth coming in direct contact with his own bare flesh not only inane, but one of which he should shudder to think.

In the last 50 years, we men have been given several distinct choices of what we may don beneath our button-downs:  we know already of the loathesome and odious "wife-beater" tank undershirt, then there is the ideal and masterful creation of the pre-war U.S. Navy, the modern white T-shirt, which has affected latter-twentieth century fashion more than anyone could ever have imagined at the time of its introduction.  A less-genius variant of the T-shirt is indeed the V-neck T-shirt, which does have its benefits but must invariably give way to its brilliant and more practical cousin.  Rounding out the styles of common undershirts are the long or short-sleeved "henley," with a row of buttons down the front, the sleeveless T-shirt, and the sleeveless V-neck T-shirt.  The "henley" is fine, provided you are a grain farmer, lumberjack, longshoreman, or other various outdoorsman, or if you are simply wearing it under a flannel shirt to keep warm during winter's chill (or if you are John Wayne).  The others are two of man's more idiotic creations; they are both very silly and I will not further address either of them here.  We are left, therefore, with the T-shirt, the V-neck T-shirt, and the wife-beater.

Ah, yes, we may remember seeing Ralph Kramden and Ed Norton "sport the wife-beater" (to borrow the phrasology of popular culture), as well as such T.V. fathers as Ward Cleaver, Jeff Stone, Henry Mitchell, and that chap from "Father Knows Best."  Rat-packers Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and Sammy Davis, Jr. were also known to have worn the silly thing (obviously low points in their otherwise stellar lives).  Even the retro-freaky, so-called "hipster dufus" of modern T.V., Seinfeld's "Kramer," wears a wife-beater under his collection of shirts from a bygone era.  The popular film "Swingers" has also cultivated this "wife-beater boom," which leads me to my first theory:  the wife-beater is merely part of the 50's-60's retro movement in men's fashion.  These are "hip-threads" whose overall coolness is grossly diminished by this apish garment.  However, this theory is easily debunked when we examine the clothing and lifestyle affected by those who "sport the wife-beater."  Oh, how I do love that phrase!

We see that a small percentage of those who -- yes -- "sport the wife-beater" do in fact affect the retro-swinger look and lifestyle, in which case their reason is obvious, although not necessarily justified.  (A crisp, white T-shirt would be just as effective in capturing the swinger's essence, and should one opt for the "open shirt"-look, a T-shirt conceals any unsightly underarm and/or chest hair, which left visible by the wife-beater, could greatly impair one's ability to "swing.")  But the vast majority of the young men who wear the thing are immature, spoiled, keg-partying, white high-school and underclass college students, who usually wear a hideously oversized T-shirt bearing the name of a sporting goods manufacturer, a professional or college athletic team, or a witty cartoon, such as "Co-ed Naked Volleyball," or "Big Johnson Fishing Rods."  Such shirts, along with baggy, wide-legged jeans, nauseating baseball caps, and ridiculously large basketball shoes do not usually constitute a swinger's wardrobe.  So why do such people "sport the wife-beater?"  Perhaps they want to "be different."  But by all such people wearing the wife-beater, from whom have they succeeding in distinguishing themselves?

A second theory:  the wife-beater is sleeveless, with a scooped neckline, and rather snugly-fitting.  Both men and women, when they possess what society calls a "good body," do all that they can to show it off.  Tight trousers are worn to enhance the buttocks; women wear tight and low-cut tops to showcase their busts.  So, therefore, is it not reasonable to think that some broad-shouldered men who have built up their chests and arms to what society calls "buff" or "chiseled" would want to showcase themselves by wearing only the above-described wife-beater?  Yes, it is reasonable to think so, but hardly justifiable.  The wife-beater is, by definition, an undershirt.  It is meant to be worn under a shirt, not by itself.  Even if the wearer is "buff" or "chiseled," he may have back hair, hairy shoulders and arms, and if the day is warm enough to warrant wearing only a wife-beater, he will be sweaty.  He will reek, his sour body odor penetrating the air wherever he goes, unchecked by sleeves.  When he raises his arm, he exposes a great bush of hair to all who are near, glistening with his perspiration, littered with the white chunks of an ineffective deodorant stick.  The fabric underneath the arms is stained yellow, and the moist spots on the front and back grow ever larger.  The man who wears only a wife-beater in public, or any tank-top for that matter, shows respect neither for himself nor for his fellow men (and women).  Furthermore, the majority of those who wear wife-beaters, as mentioned before, are young, spoiled highschool/college students, who are small and scrawny.  They are not what society calls "buff" or "chiseled."  They more closely resemble Mr. Salty, the pretzel-man, and in fact, weigh less on average than the amount in pounds of Mr. Salty brand pretzels a normal man can eat in one sitting.  The wife-beater hangs on their gaunt and bony frames like toilet paper wrapped 'round the leafless branches of a late autumn oak.  I have also seen the wife-beater worn by men who are neither "buff" nor scrawny, but who are portly -- chubby, plump, if you will.  In their case, the garment's snug fit does their bodies no flattery, and sometimes it fails to completely cover the nether-regions of their stomachs, what some refer to as the "beer gut," the "spare tire," the "love handles."  Again, why the wife-beater?

Some claim they wear the wife-beater because they do not like the collar of a T-shirt to show when the top button or two of their shirt is left open.  Fine, understandable.  But what other obligations of an undershirt does the wife-beater fulfill?  Its pronounced lack of sleeves will not prevent one from sweating through one's over-shirt, potentially ruining a perfectly good Oxford.  Furthermore, its large openings poorly insulate the body, barely forming another layer of clothing to keep in valuable warmth during winter months.  To address the question of the T-shirt collar, the V-neck T-shirt is the answer.  It performs the duties of the regular T-shirt, but shows no collar at the base of the neck when collars are left open.  And if wearing a necktie, when the collar must be buttoned, no argument for the wife-beater can be made whatsoever.  So again I pose the question:  Why wear a wife-beater?

Though there is no logical reason to wear one, there are many reasons why not to wear one.  The strongest and most obvious reason, of course, would be the prevalence of common sense.  This may, however, not be reason enough for some readers, so I will therefore lay out several points in detail:  (1) Practicality.  As has already been discussed, the wife-beater clearly falls short of fulfilling the obligations of a functional undershirt.  (2) Hygiene.  The wife-beater promotes poor bodily hygiene.  We have already discussed the noisome odor given off by a well-worn wife-beater, as well as the barbarous body hair which said garment fails to conceal.  A closer look at recent portrayals of the wife-beater in T.V. and film will show the wife-beater as the undergarment of choice of a host of unsavory characters, not the least of whom include Captain Lou Albano as Cyndi Lauper's father in her "Girls just want to have Fun" video, and the always greasy Mickey Rourke (in any of his films).  (3) Nomenclature.  Consider the name of the garment itself:  the "wife-beater."  What sort of connotation does this name carry?  Though I am no William Safire, nor do I claim to be, I will attempt to dissect this enigmatic moniker:  it is a hyphenated compound word made up of "wife," a female spouse, and "beater," one who beats, clubs, strikes, hits, pounds, etc.  These definitions would lead me to infer that a "wife-beater" is nothing other than a man who beats his wife.  As a refined and cultured gentleman, I feel quite safe passing judgement on any man who would beat his wife as an idiotic, impish, inky, insecure, ill-reared, irrational lout to whom chivalry and cleanliness are irrelevant (e.g. Mickey Rourke).  The garment in question, then, presumably drew its name from the sort of chap who adopted it as "de riguer."  Now upon examining the etymology and connotation of the name of this slovenly shirt, I again ask, why wear one?  What self-respecting fellow would model himself after an impish, inky, insecure idiot?  What fellow would voluntarily liken himself to Mickey Rourke?  Hopefully none whose acquaintance I should have the displeasure to make!!

I shall share with you now, dear readers, two final reasons why not to "sport the wife-beater."  Though they can be expressed in fewer words, they perhaps create a much stronger argument than the previous three:  (4) The Opposite Sex.  It has been proven in a laboratory environment that women become more aroused by a clean, snugly-fitting white T-shirt than by the objectionable wife-beater -- perhaps because the T-shirt is both stimulatingly revealing and tastefully concealing, whereas the wife-beater is neither.  I don't know -- a whole other treatise could be written on this subject, perhaps one already has.  (Avail yourselves to scientific journals and medical logs, I challenge you!!)  (5) Good Taste.  The wife-beater just simply looks bad!

Now, dear friends, I shall take my leave of you.  I truly hope I have exposed the wife-beater as undeserving of its popularity, and as loathesome and deplorable.  If you are an open-minded wearer of the wife-beater, I hope my compelling words have further enlightened you, and have given you the impetus to mend your ways before it becomes too late.  If you do not wear the wife-beater, Bravo, my good man!  Keep up the good work, and I trust you have found these pages amusing.  If you do not wear a wife-beater, but are a concerned friend of someone who does, I certainly hope you will pass this on to them.  If you do not currently wear a wife-beater, but after reading my words for some ungodly reason now wish to try one, I can only advise you to do no such thing, lest you wish to sabotage what may be a promising future.  And if you are a hardened wearer of the wife-beater, who merely scoffed at my heartfelt words, who found my entire dissertation senseless and trivial, from whom my treatise was repelled like water off the back of the proverbial duck, and who will only surrender your wife-beater when it is ultimately stripped from your cold, dead body, then let it be known that I have tried, and may God have mercy on your soul.
 

NEXT:  The Dearth of Blondes, and What We can do about It.
 

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