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Your name in chrome bubble letters over an airbrushed sunset, sprayed while you watched at the mall kiosk or boardwalk booth. Ten minutes of hissing compressor, a paint-speckled artist in a folding chair, and you walked away with the most personalized thing you owned.
The double-entendre T-shirt genre of the early 90s: a scrawny cartoon nerd named E. Normus Johnson bragging about his Big Johnson, and the Coed Naked line turning every sport into a wink. Sold by the millions on boardwalks and in malls, banned in schools, and litigated all the way to a state supreme court.