Were band t-shirts infra dig in the second half of the 90s? What drives someone to wear a sexist Def Leppard cartoon on their chest? All these questions and more left unanswered as Matthew Horton remembers his wardrobe.

The Cult x 2
(1987-1988; 1987-1994)
My first band t-shirt was a rather dramatic, 3D-effect gothic-lettered Cult Electric top. I was a pop kid while everyone around me went METAL, but I could get on board with The Cult’s gonzo riffs. When our black-denim-clad crew swaggered off to Hello Wembley! Arena to see them for our first gig, I bought another to prove I’d been. My mate Dave borrowed the first t-shirt and lost it; the second made it to the mid 90s.

U2
(1987-early 90s)
A grey Joshua Tree number that was way cool at the time. OK, it wasn’t.

Def Leppard
(1988-1988)
Still subject to my METAL (well, poodly ersatz metal) friends, I saw this bunch of jokers at Wembley as well. Worst gig I’ve ever experienced. Naturally, I bought a t-shirt featuring a comic strip about blue-titted naked fembots.

Lloyd Cole & The Commotions
(1988-early 90s)
Metallers shaken off, I went all boho-intellectual with this natty garment showing half of Lloyd’s beautiful face.

De La Soul
(1989-mid 90s)
Lurid green monstrosity with “Daisy Age” and, erm, a daisy on it.

James
(1990-death of baggy clearout)
The classic “Come” long-sleever. I wore it on my first day at university and everyone thought I was from Manchester. Good conversation-starter, although the conversations soon revealed I was a Home Counties posho.

World Of Twist
(1991-present?)
This one may still be at my folks’ house. Must be worth a FORTUNE. It’s another long-sleever, with fag packet design and that unquantifiable no-hoper cachet.

Ocean Colour Scene
(1991-present?)
I suspect this is still knocking about too, but caked in the mud of the Bristol Downs after it became my football top. OCS were laughable for a different reason back then – as baggy latecomers – but we thought Sway was pretty groovy. Again, it wasn’t.

Primal Scream
(2000-present)
A lovely thing, this. Red t-shirt with the Screamadelica logo embroidered in the centre. Fucking massive, unwearable.

Flaming Lips
(2000-2000)
Useless cartoony thing bought when sauced and binned within days.

The Avalanches
(2001-?)
I’ve got a horrible feeling I’ve thrown this abstract, melancholy, melting green beauty away.

Blur
(2003-2006)
Definitely thrown this nasty, cheap, camouflage Think Tank knock-off away.

Marvin Gaye
Ringo Starr
Brian Wilson
(2004-present)
Arty monochrome efforts from Sparratease (who I can’t find anymore). Fine designs and durable material, although Brian’s started peeling a bit. Typically.

Radiohead
(2003-bottom drawer)
Badly fitting khaki t-shirt, woven from disaffection.

Bob Dylan
(2006-2008)
Sparratease again, but they’d scrimped on material. As the neck began to throttle me after successive washes, I scrapped it. Shame. A Bob/record label merge on bright orange, it looked HOT.

Sugababes
(2006-present)
This is the wry Keisha&Mutya&Siobhan&Heidi&Amelle one. Needs amending.

Scritti Politti
(2006-present)
Bought on a wave of giddiness at White Bread Black Beer comeback. It’s green!

Duran Duran
(2009-present)
Retro 1984 perfectly shaped tour shirt purchased without a whiff of irony.

Fuck Buttons
(2009-present)
Hey, I’m still down with the kids.

Go on, unburden your own wardrobe secrets in the comments box below, or Matthew will look even more foolish than he does already.