Unlucky shirt

I've talked before about Stripey, my lucky audition shirt. That shirt has paid for itself almost 500 times over with the gigs it's won me.

Pictured above is my unlucky audition shirt. It's so unlucky I haven't even named it. (But if I did, it would probably be Greeney.) It's so unlucky I've never gotten so much as a callback -- let alone a booking -- when I've worn it.

And yet, I just keep wearing it. Sometimes I wear it just to defy the fates. Sometimes I wear it when I don't particularly care for the role or job I'm auditioning for (like lumberjack) or when the odds seem severely stacked against me ("casting for portly, blue-collar, ethnic type").

And sometimes I wear it because, damnit, I'm convinced it's a good audition shirt. Perfect for "nice casual." Perfect for a dad around the house. It's a good color on me, it's not blue like everything else in my closet (except for the stuff that's black), it has a collar (to better disguise my pencil neck) and it's comfortable (no tuck-in required!).

This shirt should be a hell of a lot more productive than it's been. This shirt needs to earns its damned keep. So I wear it.

Sometimes, like this morning, I find it actually relaxes me a little. It lowers the stakes. Like that audition that you know is a million-to-one shot. Or when you don't get the script for some reason and you go in with almost no preparation or expectation. That whole "Ah, fuck it" sense that just makes you a little looser and more natural.

That's the theory anyway. We'll wait and see.