Boot cut Levis, flannel shirts, hiking boots, long underwear shirts, Adidas Superstars and t-shirts when the weather was warm. Outerwear was down coats, denim jackets and layered flannel shirts. This was Detroit, 1972 - 1975. I had a huge t-shirt collection. Logos for bands, cars, tatoo parlors, operas, art exhibits, R. Crumb characters, the Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers, tantric yoga weekends, name it. My younger brother did a superb piece of embroidery on the back of a denim jacket for my birthday. Copied it straight off the back of a Tom Scott and the LA Express Album: A long haired guy playing sax surrounded by psychedelic fire pouring out the bell of the horn. (I played tenor.) A few years later, on the street in Hyde Park, I got a nice complement on it from Joseph Jarman, reed player in the Art Ensemble of Chicago. A friend of mine had a bright orange t-shirt with two chorus lines of turds on it - with hands, feet and faces, drawn on it in the Shiny Shoe style (like Mr. Natural or the Keep On Truckin' guy). The turds on the lines were giving each other the soul shake with the slogan Get Your Shit Together! There were a couple of biker types, particularly this guy Don. He wore nothing but black denim, pants and jacket, except when it was very warm, when he'd trade the jacket for the vest of a pinstriped suit. And, because he was very short, 4-inch platform shoes. Accesories were a toothpick (ever-present) and big radio (and this was 1974) and, always, one or another smokin' hot chick. Chicks I still think about! You'll just have to take my word for it on this guy's girlfriends. They were ubiquitous and gorgeous.