I’ve discovered the particular thrill in matching my wardrobe choices with bird sightings. There’s nothing better than seeing a Dickcissel while wearing a DICK t-shirt, designed by Paul Riss. I saw Sandhill cranes in Arizona while wearing my SACR t-shirt. I’ve spotted many a Snowy owl while clad in my SNOW toque. The first Red-winged Blackbird sighting of spring is made all the more splendid if I’m wearing my RWBL tshirt.
In fact, I attribute my failure to see the Scissortail flycatcher that graced Toronto’s west end earlier this summer to the fact that my STFL t-shirt was in the laundry. But such is life.
I returned from vacation on the West Coast with numerous birdy items, including a fetching owl sweatshirt, two bird prints, and too many bird cards to count. The only thing I regret, in retrospect, is that I didn’t manage to purchase a wearable item with shorebirds on it, because we’re now in shorebird season and I’m convinced that distinguishing between a Greater and Lesser Yellowlegs would be easier if I had the bird imprinted on an item of clothing.
There’s a misconception that birders wear primarily Tilley hats and multi-pocketed vests. Although the two items often form the staples of a birder’s outfit, people have started branching out. Designers such as Paul Riss are fearlessly revolutionizing birders’ wardrobes, which seems to go hand in hand with the general trend that birding is suddenly becoming hip. (A recent article in Macleans speaks to the popularity spike of birding as a hobby among millenials.)
What is happening? Have I suddenly, unbeknownst to me, transformed from arch-nerd into inadvertent trendsetter?