Six Flannels That Prove You’re Too Cool to Get “Clingy”

A flannel can bring an outfit that originally might have said, “I want to have your babies,” to “What’s your name again?” Choose any of these classics and the only thing he’ll call “clingy” is the lint on your sleeves:


The Fitted Flannel

It’s feminine, but not feminine enough to remind him you’re a female with the potential to develop feelings. The fitted flannel says, “I might be woman-shaped, but I’m not trying to shape you into anything but the distant piece of unfeeling cardboard that you are.”


The Lumberjack Flannel

You know who didn’t give a single fuck? Paul Bunyan. And also you, in this wicked lumberjack flannel. It’ll show him you’d rather chop wood than vegetables for some lame romantic dinner.


The Vintage Flannel

A blast from the past communicates that not only do you not see a future with this dude, but you also might not even see the future at all. If you’re dressing like it’s 1968, how can you even fathom where he’ll be in an hour?



The Layered Flannel

What’s better than one casually coy flannel? Two flannels. Double-bagging your flannels creates an extra barrier of protection that conveys you’re guarded by the tangible power of these super cool shirts and you probably have an impenetrable emotional wall preventing you from feeling.


Your Dad’s Flannel

Sporting your dad’s flannel means you have a dad who’s cool enough to wear flannel and probably cool enough to have stuck around and raised you. Whether or not that last bit is true, a flannel that could pass for your dad’s, stepdad’s, or suspiciously protective neighbor says that your relatively stable upbringing has given you enough respect for yourself to not really care that he left before bagels.


Your Husband’s Flannel

Even if you don’t have a husband, saying you’re wearing your husband’s flannel gives you a lot of reasons to call him certifiably insane if he calls you–a married woman confident enough to wear her husband’s clothing during her extra-marital romp–the clingy one. Grab any oversized flannel that could pass for your husband’s and watch as you go from a potentially emotional nightmare to a super-chill, Mrs. Robinson-type.


Now that flannel is here to give you the appearance of a safe, non-clingy, emotionally stunted robot, you can get to work on the fun part: being desperately codependent as fuck. Good luck locking that shit down!