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Can you imagine the sub-Superdry filth Bruno, Locadia and the Greyhound would half-heartedly commission and then sneakily market via a convoluted subsidiary of their wives' Etsy/Herbalife stores? A disgusted Duffy merks it entirely and just plays all season in a torn wifebeater decorated in fake...

*please don't have an ironed-on sponsor or sleeves that look like they've been sewn on from an entirely different shirt* *club avoids both these features but manages to add some other implausibly horrendous deal-breaker to the design* "Nah mate, too expensive for me, never even thought about it"