This post includes offensive language, particularly pertaining to women. Such is politics in 2024. Anyway. Just so you know going in.
In high school, my favorite t-shirt was a Hot Topic purchase. It was a red baby T with the words “BAD KITTY” written in rhinestones across the chest. I still own it. Here is a photo.
I believe we can all agree that it is rad as hell.
Now, if you were to ask 16-year-old Danielle what exactly she meant by “Bad Kitty” – what message she was sending the world – I don’t think she would have had an answer beyond, “It’s funny.”
And had you asked her to elaborate, she would have sighed. You just don’t get it.
Clearly, what I liked about it was that it confused and worried the uptight adults around me, man. What a bunch of squares. I was EDGY. And when people asked me what the shirt meant, it only reinforced that I was EDGY and others didn’t GET IT.
(Yes, hello, hi, I was a teenage edgelord.)
I’ve been thinking a lot about that t-shirt, having covered a lot of Trump rallies in the last six months.
In fact, I thought about it a lot as I wrote my latest story — an 8-and-a-half-minute radio story, which is long in NPR land. It’s a breakdown of the anatomy of a Trump rally in Rome, Georgia, a few weeks ago — a recounting of what happened, from fans lining up well before dawn to people straggling to their cars 14+ hours later.
[GO READ IT AND/OR LISTEN. OK. THEN COME BACK HERE.]
That piece drills down substantially into the Trump merch scene — I could have done an hour-long podcast episode about Trumpwear alone.
For me, the merch shows what really sets not only a Trump rally apart, but what sets Trump apart.
The merch at a Trump rally is not only plentiful … but there’s just such a wide array of it, bought from any number of online sellers. You cannot believe the variety. Here, for example, is a jacket depicting Trump as bullfighter. I see a LOT of Trump merch but have only seen this one once — at this rally.
But back to the Bad Kitty t-shirt. A prominent strain of Trump gear makes me think of that shirt. It’s the openly confrontational merch, of which there is plenty. Some of this combativeness consists of pretty basic in-your-face-ness — there are a lot of plays on “Let’s Go Brandon” and “FJB,” for example.
But some of it also defiantly addresses Trump’s haters. One shirt I saw at that Rome rally: “If you don’t like Trump, you won’t like me. And I’m okay with that.” And another, sported by both a 16-year-old girl and her grandmother: “I’m still a Trump girl and I make no apologies.”
These shirts assume a great mass of Trump enemies. The shirts (and, presumably, the wearers) know that Trump isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, and they therefore preemptively go on the defensive and the offensive.
In other words, they trumpet the message: to be a Trump follower is to have people disagree with you. That’s just a part of the identity.
And this, I would argue, is one of the core bonds between Trump and his followers, and it’s a wildly strong bond: The Trump Feedback Loop. (Or, if you like, the Hot Topic Effect.)
It goes like this: Trump has made it clear since he became a candidate that he expects opposition, and even welcomes it. He has made opposition definitional to being Trump, not to mention definitional to being a Trump supporter.
Therefore, counterarguments don’t matter; opposition only makes you more secure in your Trump support, because to be opposed is to be a Trump supporter.
This logic quickly entered the bloodstream of his supporters – consider “snowflakes,” the online right’s favorite insult of 2016. It’s a remarkably effective rhetorical armor: You don’t like what I’m saying? Pffft. You’re just a snowflake.
And so one of the quotes from his Rome rally that stuck with me most was from Georgia Rep. Barry Loudermilk: “People will always try to stop you from doing what’s right,” he told the crowd.
That is a powerful sentiment. It can absolve anything. If people are complaining about something Trump said or did — he’s probably in the right. If they’re upset about that slogan on your shirt — well, of course they are.
Don’t like my bad kitty shirt? It only proves I’m edgy.
Similarly, an aggressive Trump shirt proclaims:
Don’t like that I like Trump? It only proves that I’m a true Trump supporter.
Right now, with Trump’s four indictments, as well as the fact that his supporters (wrongly) think he won in 2020, there’s a lot to be aggrieved about in Trump world. After all, the enemies of Trump hate him so much that they turned the whole Justice system and the whole election apparatus against him.
The enemies are fighting; time to fight harder, in other words. To be a Trump supporter is to fight.
—
Before I wrote this story, I wanted to make sure I wasn’t overblowing how singular Trump rallies are. I asked a colleague who covered a lot of Obama rallies back in the day if there was any comparison. And we quickly agreed that no, these are not similar to Obama rallies. Those rallies, besides often being gargantuan, were also an entirely different vibe. Say it with me: Obama was about Hope and Change.
I also thought about Bernie Sanders — I would argue that he, like Trump, had more of a cult of personality than Obama did. Sanders supporters were (are) defensive of the man. (I still have the angry/obscene messages to prove it.) They loved not only his politics, but they loved him.
Even so, Sanders and Trump rallies are (as you may have guessed) not really similar, either.
And I would argue that the Trump merch is a visible sign of what’s different, in both these cases. And again, it’s in how aggressive, and sometimes offensive and vulgar it is.
The shirts this year that always make me double-take are the ones bearing some variation on the phrase “Joe and the Hoe.” Some shirts, for example, say “Joe and the Hoe have to go.” Some…have even more vulgar additions that I just don’t want to repeat in my nice newsletter here.
This kind of t-shirt misogyny is long-standing at Trump rallies (recall the 2016-era shirts proclaiming, “Trump that bitch” and “Hillary sucks but not like Monica”).
Don’t like those slogans? Pffft. You wouldn’t.
In addition to the misogyny/misogynoir (which I don’t mean to blow past…feel free to meditate on it for a bit, because hoo boy), I want to add one more anecdote that shows just how unusual Trump rallies are: my colleague Stephen Fowler and I were at a rally in South Carolina, talking about a “Joe and the Hoe” shirt we had spotted. A nearby photographer heard us and sighed.
We asked him what was up.
“That just makes my job harder,” he said, motioning toward the woman in the shirt.
He went on to explain that after photographing Trump rallies, he zooms wayyyy in on his photos to check them over, making sure the shots he sends to his editor don’t inadvertently include swear words.
That kind of vulgarity check? That is a new phenomenon.
At Romney events in 2012, there were not “FBO” shirts that I recall. At Obama 2008 rallies, there were not “McCain sucks” shirts. Ted Cruz, Marco Rubio, Jeb Bush…I don’t recall anything like that at their events in 2016. At Bernie Sanders’ 2016 rallies, I do not remember “I hate Hillary” shirts or “F*ck Donald Trump” shirts.
My point here is that Trump’s most aggressive merch shows one of the most powerful tactics he employs: the man has successfully made being embattled a major part of the Trumpist identity – expecting pushback, then redefining it as validation.
And that means it is very, very hard to imagine what would ever convince his most fervent supporters to stop supporting him…or whom they decide to support once he’s out of the game.
(But for now, we still have 2024 to think about. So: more rallies!)
LINKS
MY STUFF:
Talking Trump rallies: Domenico Montanaro, Deepa Shivaram, and I went deep on Trump rallies on the NPR Politics Podcast. (I say quite a bit about the Hot Topic effect, even if I don’t really call it that in the podcast, because that would involve explaining to the Olds and the Youngs alike the wonder of 1990s/early-aughts-era Hot Topic.) Go listen!
Pence won’t endorse Trump: Nope!
The unique challenges to Trump picking his next VP: Can this person lead MAGA? Are they hyper-uber-super-loyal? What do they think of Mike Pence’s experience as VP? So much to think about.
OTHER STUFF:
Honestly, I’m too tired to compile my latest list of links, so let’s just jump to the OLDISH-INTERNET JOY FOR THE DAY: The Neil Patrick Harris 2011 Tonys opening number (“It’s Not Just for Gays Anymore”) *never* fails to bring me joy. Did I just watch it yet again while dropping in the link? You bet your sweet ass I did.
I had a boss who wanted to have a team meeting on Brandon, Florida because of the let's go Brandon phenomenon. Rather childish if you ask me.
Great post!
🧵I love the way you use the word, “man”!
Like the way Dave Frishberg wrote, and Blossom Dearie sang, in his INIMITABLE I’m Hip:
“Look at me swing, /
Ring-a-ding-ding! /
I even call my girlfriend ‘man’! /
I’m so hip!” //