They’re out there and you know who they are. They’re the people who bought a 2-4 of Bud Light because of the free t-shirt inside. Forget how the beer tastes they just saved a trip to Zellers and $6 on a tee, bro.
Much like the way a monogrammed Louis Vuitton-anything announces to the world “I have arrived”, a beer t-shirt announces “Where the game of beer pong at?” From the gym (usually with the sleeves cut off), to the bars, to Pottery Barn, they don’t want you to think they like Doritos or Yellow Tail or aluminum siding, they want you to know their beer of choice before you know their name.
While I’m unsure of their origin, I believe the premise was to lure poor college kids with free t-shirts into paying for beer. Eventually it would kill enough brain cells to the point they were teetering on flunking out of their Bachelor’s degree in Leisure Studies and thus be too inept to realize they were walking billboards. In fact, the more they drank, the more likely they would get kicked out of school and need free clothing. It was win-win and the free beer t-shirt was born.
The only thing worse than a free beer t-shirt in public is the official beer merchandise. As in the stuff you buy. With money. Money you had to work for. While the rest of the free beer t-shirt wearing population was minding their own business at intramural floor hockey, the more dedicated beer lovers bought Labatt belt buckles, Budweiser pajama pants and embroidered Miller hooded sweatshirts. Showing off that much official beer apparel is the college crowd’s equivalent to being in a late 90’s Cash Money Millionaires music video.
The hype on beer apparel: Keep it limited. Please.
Scott says: 
matt 
