You love Hawaii. That is the problem. You went for a week, got sunburned in exactly one spot, ate your body weight in grilled meat over rice, and now every other beach on Earth looks like a parking lot puddle. That is heartbreak, baby.
Then there is the other side of the coin: eleven bucks for a gallon of milk, rain that shows up for nine minutes and leaves, a rooster with no concept of boundaries, and the slow realization that paradise still has traffic. You left a piece of yourself out there on a lava rock, and the mainland will never understand. This shirt says it all without you having to explain island time to another coworker.
Cut from soft, breathable fabric with a smooth, broken in feel from the very first wear, it holds its shape, color, and print through wash after wash. Roomy enough to lounge in, sharp enough to wear out, and comfortable enough that you will forget it is on.
