Right now, my shirts are confusing me. Allow me to explain...
This began with the initial attempt at antibiotic treatment for the bursitis I've been harping on about ad nauseam (which is, should you desire to know, going down, thankfully), which medication came with a warning to remain out of direct sunlight. Not a problem, said I; I shall simply wear linen trousers and long sleeves. That, however, was before I consulted my stocks of clothing, to find that I was near-devoid of long-sleeved shirts. Cue a trip to the clearance racks of a local department store, from which the LA and I extracted a selection of light long-sleeved shirts at considerable discount.
Two of them, so far, have had features which mystify me to some extent. The first is a well-known brand, although not as much known for shirts - people associate Levi Strauss with jeans, and rightly so. However, they do make quite decent shirts; one of my favourite short-sleeved shirts is one of their products. This long-sleeved shirt, though, had two odd features. First, it's largely devoid of buttons; the front is closed by snap fasteners, with a pearl-like finish upon the exposed surface. Second, it has a front yoke; the upper shoulders are oversewn with a bias-cut version of the main fabric, which is very obviously on the bias due to the chequered pattern. I'm starting to think that these odd features are part of an attempt to appear old-fashioned; the snaps as an imitation of studs, and the front yoke because in years gone by, a front yoke was common. Not that it particularly matters; the shirt is comfortable and looks good on me, and that is after all what matters.
The second shirt is the one I happen to be wearing today. It's fairly unremarkable in most ways; the strangest thing is the presence of a moulded autograph on all the buttons. It appears to be that of one Tony Hawk, whoever he may be. However, it has one feature whose presence is an annoyance to me; the mystery is why it's considered necessary.
When wearing a long-sleeved shirt, it may become necessary at some point to roll the sleeves up. This is easy to accomplish, and when done correctly (folding the cuff back, and then folding back the folded-back cuff, and so on, such that you always have a wide folded-back section as opposed to a mere sausage of fabric) is perfectly secure. However, it appears Americans aren't expected to understand the concept of rolling up one's sleeves properly; this shirt has buttons approximately halfway up the bicep, and internal straps to retain wadded-up sleeves. I'm rather disappointed that such measures are considered necessary.