Steve Spatucci When I was five years old, my favorite shirt was, without a doubt--my prized Batman comic shirt! I'm happy to say I have a few large photos of me in the shirt, preserving the panels to the point of readability.
To be truthful, though, that's more than this garment deserves--I have no idea which company produced it, but it featured an all-blue (even the face) Batman, and an equally color-saturated Robin fighting a duo of villains that I'm no longer able to decipher.
From what I can see in the photo, one villain is wearing a green suit with a bluish metal cap, and the other is simply on fire. My memory may be failing me on this, but I recall thinking "I don't know these bad guys--they must have made them up just for the shirt!" Color is the dominant element here--everything is bright and bold, and--not surprsingly--the dialogue is Adam West-era winceble. I can make out "Must watch that spike!" and "Your army of thugs won't stop me!" when I really look at the photo up close.
My biggest frustration, and this I remember clearly from way back in 1975, was that the panels were repeated around the shirt and didn't form a readable comic story! My grandparents would humor me, pretending to read my "comic book shirt" while walking around me--but I knew the panels didn't create a satisfying or complete story. I remember thinking, "This shirt could have made adults like comics just as much as kids--if they only did a better job!"
Oh well. It made me feel loyal to comics, and that was a great feeling. And if nothing more, it may have served to distract one or two people from the dorkish seventies home-made bowl cut my parents had given me.
And I realize as I write this, I have a big Batman logo shirt on. Some things never change...but the bowl cut is gone.