I’m historically bad at starting conversations.

Like, I’m socially competent enough to know that “How are you?” and “How ‘bout them Phillies?” aren’t going to get me anywhere with most people, yet incompetent enough to have no backup plan. Thus, I’m stuck in this weird-ass limbo in which there is no good way to start a conversation with someone I don’t know.

There’s nothing wrong with “How are you?” or “How ‘bout them Phillies?”--I’ve had perfectly good conversations about well-being and baseball. However, both come across as “I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to say to you.”

Naturally, the best topics to talk about are topics that both of you are interested in. How, then, do you know what these topics are when you’ve never met someone before?

That’s where the t-shirts come in!

How much easier is it to talk to someone when they visibly proclaim interest in something that you like?!

You still haven’t solved the problem, though. What if no one is wearing a t-shirt?

That’s where initiative comes in!

Since I know I’m not great with conversations, I make it easier for people to talk to me. I’ve never been one to invest in clothing, but I buy t-shirts. When I purchase a t-shirt, I don’t think of it like buying a pair of jeans. I think of it as a catalyst, a lifeline, and a means of self-expression. As an added bonus, I can combine it with a pair of shoes to get service.

Grab a t-shirt from my drawer, and I probably have a story about how it helped me out in some social situation or other.

Flogging Molly shirt: landed me some people to hang out with during freshman orientation. Led to a somewhat uncomfortable conversation with a four-year-old from my church, who wanted to know what ‘flogging’ meant.

Pearls Before Swine shirt: started a friendship that’s still going strong nearly six years later.

Spider-Pig shirt: very popular among the 30+ crowd, who remember The Simpsons in its heyday--possibly why I know so many people a decade or two older than me. My upside-down piggie saves the day on a regular basis.

Like any social shortcut, t-shirts are not 100% effective, and not all of the attention you receive is positive. For example, for the 2016 season opener, I wore my Phillies shirt...at my Ohio college...which was swarming with Reds fans...whom the Phils were playing. Of course, folks shot me glares and such. One of my friends stopped dead in her tracks when she saw me in the dining hall. Naturally, she enjoyed boasting when the Reds won. Yet the adversity was goofy, like most baseball rage is; I thought it was hilarious when she posted the final score on my Facebook profile.

I wasn’t the only one displaying pride in 2015’s Worst Team In All Of Baseball; a few others wore Phillies garb on opening day. Even though we didn’t speak, I felt connected.

That’s the other thing about t-shirts--even if they don’t lead to conversation, they bolster those around you. They say “Hi. I also like this thing that you like. You’re not alone.”

To incoming freshmen--make sure you pack t-shirts. They might not be the most stylish things ever, but you’re going to need a lifeline at some point. Said lifeline might as well take the form of some logo or witticism plastered across your torso.