Even from this side view, you can imagine what a target the sun makes on his back. It says, “Check out Mr. Snazzy.” No bully would dare shove him in a locker.
Today’s designers could never compete with Wally’s smooth graphic Spirograph shirt of yore. So they resort to comedy.
Look! It’s a cat inside an Aztec sun, shooting lasers out of its eyes, which makes it Caturday. What? Maybe you have to be stoned to get it.
Or they abandon the Aztec sun to reflect something vaguely spiritual and Native American, like this sun/moon/horn/dreamcatcher tee on a trendily-tatted twentysomething. Now we know where she stores her rubberbands.
Wait, those are bracelets.
Now these boxers are pretty cute. I have to hand it to them. Cartoon suns keep it light.
Just remember–boxers are temporary: tattoos are forever. Even the tattoo seems steamed about it.