Big Dogs: Don’t Call it a Comeback

If asked to do a word association about my father, I would quickly land on his t-shirts. Specifically, his "rag" tees— the ones that have been worn to threads and worked through to the point that they've been put on reserve for manual labor, yard work, and the like. I think of his piles of tees from bars and breweries that have since gone out of business, shirts from trade-shows long before the internet. Scattered throughout these piles were tropical cartoon images from the reigning dad shirt king: Big Dogs. When I was seven years old, these shirts were hot shit. Now, it strikes me as a somewhat layered form of grotesque. It reeks of some middle-American cargo shorts, running sneakers, ankle socks kind of vibe. Some dad wearing it as a deliberate act of civil rebellion in a minivan and picking up the kids lifestyle. Nonetheless, Big Dogs still speaks to a certain sensibility and spirit which have it poised for a resurgence in popularity.

I think it’s safe to say the whole “normcore” bubble as it traditionally existed has all but burst. Demna Gvasalia left Vetements last year, stating that his mission had been accomplished. Balenciaga? As best I can tell, they’ve morphed into something of a graphic tee and ugly sneaker company (with the exception of the SS20 Hello Kitty purses— those are hard as nails). But a lean into graphic tees wouldn’t surprise under the current circumstances. Summer is coming, and with who knows how much longer in quarantine, we’ll likely be looking to freshen up our t-shirt stock. The scum of the Earth internet archivists and vintage resellers are already putting in the work to try and make 70’s and 80’s “haha I’m an alcoholic, I’m a piece of shit scumbag” vintage tees marketable. As those undoubtedly take off, the only option will be to combine this asshole-irony with the already burgeoning Y2K/normcore aesthetic. More than low-rise sweatpants, ugly shoes, and visible thongs, few things remind me of the 2000’s like Big Dogs. I regard much of these years with disgust; we really did dress that badly, but Big Dogs is merely a t-shirt brand. It’s no different from the Peace Frogs and Grateful Dead tees that inspired the most recent Vampire Weekend album. Hell, Big Dogs would look sick with the technicolor rainbow that is the currently hot Arc’teryx.

What makes Big Dogs special is that, unlike archiving gore-tex jackets or 1970’s cross country tees alongside Raf Simons SS02, it feels real. Big Dogs isn’t trying to be fresh or new or “cool.” Sure, they clearly want to expand their market, as evidenced by the creation of an Instagram and having young people model their clothes. But the clothes themselves have remained pretty consistent since the brand started. The brand on Instagram looks like a meme page, but half the “memes” are the same graphics you’d find on a t-shirt. Someone saying “wow, that’s a BIG dog” and making the awooga eyes works as well on a sponsored-content meme page as it does in the garage covered in grass stains and grease. Hell, a lot of their posts just make me smile, I’ve even shared a few to my story. Maybe sitting inside all day in a hoodie and nylon shorts has gotten to me, but I’m attracted more and more to clothes that just make me smile— to hell with whether or not they’re cool.

The power is in the nostalgia. It’s the same nostalgia that has me borrowing battered sweatshirts from my mom’s closet or naming my previous blog Scuffletown, after the neighborhood park near my elementary school. I got into fashion because, deep down, I wanted people to look at me and think “wow, he looks cool.” But I’ve long since realized that idea is shallow and dumb. Fashion and style should be about conveying a person’s interests, conveying where they are from and what they are into. Whether they are repping a local hardcore band, restaurant, or a big dog with a fish on the line telling you he loves “a good pole dance,” t-shirts are as essential for drinking beers at the bay to escape the Virginia heat as staying in the crib social distancing. I’m an adult, and I have no qualms about reminiscing on my childhood. I like to remember home, not the place but the feeling.

YO IF ANY GOONS AT BIG DOGS HQ READ THIS AND WANNA SHOW SOME LOVE EMAIL US ABOUT A SPONSORSHIP AT Submit.JTTB@Gmail.com. FUCK IT, LET’S COLLAB ON SOME MERCH