This is how it went down: I was at dinner with friends – Marcus and Vijay, who’ll both know a story about me ironing a pocket square at 3am before an interview and shrieking hysterically when I burnt a hole in it – and we were debating white t-shirts. Marcus insisted his £55 Japanese cotton blahblahblah was objectively better than all of the others while Vijay swore by his three-pack of white basics from M& S. I’d had a few wines and, naturally, wanted to be contrarian, so said I would prove us all wrong by trying on every single white t-shirt sold on the British high street. “Like, for real?” asked Marcus. “Watch me,” I foolishly said.
Two months, 37 t-shirts and one very confused bank manager later and I have tried every white t-shirt on the British high street. Ok, almost every. I’ve excluded anything that’s not readily available in a store near you (looking at you Whistles and Oliver Spencer) or brand that only sell online/uniquely in central London where they think they’re too good for you provincial peasants.
But everything else I own in white has earned its stripes here, from the expected winners – M& S, Uniqlo, H&M – to the more surprising contenders – Mountain Warehouse, TK Maxx. The rules were simple: They all had to be plain crew necks only – no v-necks, pockets, slogans or other distractions, We’re keeping it classy here.
They all had to feel different – from how they look straight out of the packaging, to how they feel against your skin, to how they hang on your body.
Do they flatter your shape? Or do they resemble a gap-year castaway’s loincloth, clinging grotesquely to every extra pound you’ve ever consumed? How do they wash?
Do they become misshapen or curl up at the sides like a used condom? Can they survive a tumble dry or do they shrink into crop-top territory? Do they go yellow under the arms after three wears?
And finally – and perhaps most importantly – what is the opacity factor? Can the colour of your nipples be seen from across the room? (Don’t judge me, I know we all care about this). For the record, my wife thought I had gone mad. “You’ve got enough white t-shirts already,” she said meekly as another delivery truck dumped its cardboard fillings at our door. “Yes but…none of them are special,” I replied as I ripped open another blister-pack. “LOOK AT ME RIGHT NOW, I AM BUYING EVERY WHITE T-SHIRT”.
She gave me that look that all loving wives give their husbands at some point: the one that says, ‘You’re insane but I love you’. And she was right. I was halfway through by now so there was no going back.
The first pile to go was the really cheap stuff. Look I’ll admit it, I wanted the £6 Primark classic tee to win. In theory, it’s amazing.
A basic white shirt you can pick up for the price of a decent coffee? Sign me up! But after one wash this thing looked like it had been dipped in bleach then racked with chronic diarrhoea.
The cotton was so thin you could practically see through it and the neckline had gone all wobbly already. So what did I learn from this? Well, don’t expect much from a £6 shirt.
Of course it’s disgusting after one wash. It’s made to autumn apart quickly so people keep buying more. Beatable.
The same happened with the ones from Peacocks (£9), George at ASDA (£8) and F&F at Tesco (£7). If you’re buying a white shirt that costs less than a tenner, you’re gonna have to accept they probably won’t look great after a couple of washes. If that’s ok with you – great; go for it!
You’re going to be wearing them for painting and gardening anyway so who cares if they’re shit quality, right? Just don’t then complain when your wardrobe staple is suddenly…not so staple anymore. Incrementing the price-tag dial up by a few quid yielded some more promising results.
H&M’s standard cotton t-shirt (£8.99) wasn’t bad at all and survived multiple washes with minimal shrinkage. The fabric wasn’t quite as thick as some of the others but still totally ok in the opacity department. Their Premium Quality (£12.99) option was much better quality – the cotton was noticeably thicker and it survived the wash test pretty well.
Next’s Pure cotton tee (£8) wasn’t great. It wasn’t terrible but it wasn’t impressive either. The fabric felt itchy against the skin and suffered badly from the twisted seam syndrome after washing.
You know when the side seam mysteriously repositions itself to the front of your torso mid-cycle? Fucking hate when that happens. M&S were the real winners here.
After testing their Pure Cotton tee (£8.50) I was pretty impressed but oh man, their Autograph (£16) is lovely. The cotton feels noticeably thicker and the cut is just a little bit more flattering. Nothing stood out about this one particularly but after washing and wearing it constantly for a week, there wasn’t a single thing I didn’t love.
But M&S’ real white-washing surprise was the two-pack of Cool & Fresh (£15 each). Supposedly made with some kind of magic fabric that actually stops you sweating and smelling – the mortal enemies of any white t-shirt wearer. I wore one for a whole day trekking around Manchester in the peak of summer and it didn’t smell.
Some kind of miracle. Was it black magic? Advanced science?
Who knows. All I know is I’ll be keeping a closer eye on the t-shirt tech at M&S from now on. Uniqlo didn’t disappoint either.
Their Supima Cotton crew neck (£14.90) is already a closet staple for many and it’s easy to see why. The cotton has a lovely subtle sheen to it and feels amazing against your skin. It’s also pretty durable – I washed it multiple times and there was zero shrinkage.
Their U Crew Neck (£12.90), designed by Christophe Lemaire, was equally as good but with a slightly thicker feel to the cotton and a marginally boxier cut. The neckline is also tighter which actually looks purposeful rather than off-shoulder baggy. Bonus points too for opacity – no nipple flashes happening here.
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And they didn’t yellow after multiple wears either. Oh and M&S still reign supreme when it comes to t-shirts. Please see the now crushed remains of my £55 Japanese cotton blahblah blah tee that was doing exactly fuck all on me that Uniqlo beat out of the park.
John Lewis surprised me here. Their standard cotton (£15) was alright but nothing to write home about. But their organic Pima cotton (£22) is honestly as good as some of the £50+ shirts I’ve bought.
The cotton has a lovely weight to it – not too thick but not see-through. It hangs nicely of your body and the neck band hasn’t lost it’s shape at all after years of impatiently yanking it off. You get what you pay for with this one.
Gap were bloody trousers. Their crew (£13) felt cheap and had some kind of weird, boxy cut that made it too tight across the shoulders but then too baggy at the waist. Ugh.
Reiss’ Pima cotton (£45) wasn’t terrible but then again it wasn’t amazing either. Beautiful fabric and lovely cut but that price tag edges it into ‘not-quite-high-street’ territory for me. Ditto for their “Casual Friday” collab with Sunspel (£55).
Amazing shirt. Incredible waste of money on what is a goddamn t-shirt. The Winners of the White Criminal Enterprise were, surprisingly, Zara.
Their Join Life premium cotton tee (£17.99) was much better than I expected. Really nice weight to the fabric and opaque as fuck. It also washes really well too.
Granted, their sustainability claims are probably bullshit like all other high street “eco” ranges but hey ho. Mountain Warehouse (£16.99) and Cotswold Outdoor’s Patagonia (£35) options were both pleasant surprises. Both had a nice thick cotton feel to them and lasted pretty well through the testing.
That said, they both felt very ‘functional’ t-shirt. Which is great if you like doing outdoor pursuits. Me?
I live in cities and occasionally stare blankly at a screen for a living, so Mountain Fortress of Solitude just didn’t resonate with me. TK Maxx’s Calvin Klein 3-pack (£25) were actually really good for the price too. Nothing mind blowing but good opacity, lasted well and didn’t twist up funny after washing.
So there you have it folks, I have tried every white t-shirt on the high street and lived to tell the tale. For those of you wondering what happened to my poor findings at the end of this slog, I kept my five favourites and donated the rest to charity. So congratulations and thank you Charles Dickens et al. for being massively great t-shirt brands.
So what’s the conclusion? Well first off, there’s no such thing as a perfect white t-shirt. You pay £55+ for something you’re gonna wear pretty much everywhere and expect it to be flawless.
Newsflash – they’re not. Uniqlo might be wonderful but they crease like a charity shop trousers drawer so they ain’t perfect. My wife might hate me for buying so many but at least I now KNOW that M&S are the superior brand.
But if you’re gonna hold me to my insane promise and ask me what is the best white t-shirt you can buy… I’d stick to Uniqlo’s Supima Cotton Crew Neck (£14.90). It ticks all of the boxes for me – lovely fabric that feels amazing but is thick enough to not be see-through. Washes beautifully, keeps it’s shape and actually looks kinda stylish.
John Lewis’ organic Pima cotton (£22) is also great if you wanna spend a little extra. Sweaty guys like myself (don’t judge me, we’re friends here) might also wanna splash out on M&S’ miracle fabric technology. Honestly.
It works. As for the budget option, go with H&M’s Premium Quality (£12.99). They’re not perfect but they were by far the best performers in the sub-£15 category.
You’ll just need to replace them more regularly than the more expensive options. What I WILL say is avoid anything over £55. Yes the Sunspel classic (£70) looks lovely.
Yes that Reiss Pima (£45) is beautiful.
But are they three/four times better than something you can get for under £20? No.
Not by fuckin’-way. There’s a white t-shirt quality threshold that hits hard at around £25, folks. Likewise, don’t bother going any lower than £10 if you actually want it to last more than a couple of washes.
We live in such a fast fashion world now that we’re conditioned to believe that clothes should be dirt cheap. But just because something costs £3 doesn’t mean it was made by slaves or a Mother Theresa rescue mission. It means someone somewhere had to source the cotton, turn it into fabric, ship it over to a production facility who then had to pay their workers to make your damn shirt.
Basic t-shirts are not cheap to produce. Doesn’t mean you need to spend a fortune but please don’t expect excellence from a £6 garment. Cheers.
Photo Credits: Im1979
