The iconic Beefy-T has been fading gorgeously for more than 50 years, and now that we’re about to spin frantically into t-shirt weather like a Mario Kart character that just hit a banana peel, it’s about time we talk about some tees. The $12 Beefy-T is the undisputed heavyweight champion of the drawer. And sure, it feels a little odd to delve into a product most of you either have in your possession currently or have had for significant periods of your lives, but in a (sort of) similar way to me having absolutely no idea how or why my wifi works, sometimes the most familiar things in our lives are actually the most foreign.

For instance, Hanes has been around for 125 years, which is an eternity under any modern rubric. It was founded in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, by John Wesley Hanes. After the brand had a name and address change in 1947, they started releasing their t-shirts in multi-packs, which means that packs of Hanes t-shirts have been on shelves as long as microwaves have. In the ‘60s, Hanes Hosiery merged with the P.H. Hanes Knitting Company—also founded in 1901, but by John Wesley’s brother—and became the Hanes we (sort of) know today.

The Beefy-T was released in 1975. It offered the same crazy comfort and affordability as a classic Hanes t-shirt, but in a package that was heavier and virtually bombproof. And if you’re wondering why it seems like that tag is disproportionately represented in the vintage merch market, all those aforementioned details mean the Beefy-T makes for an incredible blank and that they last forever.

The classic white one is made out of a hardy-ass 100% ringspun cotton fabric—that percentage fluctuates based on color—and is cut generously, so as not to feel restrictive. They also age so well that there are entire forum battles dedicated to coming to a consensus on what the best era of Beefy-T was, and those threads resolved absolutely nothing because they tend to age better than wine.

Now, as a result of that thick fabric and full cut, a Beefy-T can sometimes require some wrestling to get all the way right. I usually buy mine—like I do with all Hanes tees, for what it’s worth—a size up from my normal size and then wash and dry them with the kind of vigor normally reserved for the towels I dry my dog off with. If that doesn’t get the hem to my desired elevation, I’ll just cut the mf because not only does it solve the problem, but it fast-tracks my attachment to it for reasons that still elude me. And because they’re $12, a little DIY doesn’t feel especially heinous.

There’s always so much chatter about the perfect t-shirt, but I’d argue that a perfect t-shirt is mostly just one you can—and do—wear all the time, one that doesn’t stress you out and one that gets softer and more tantalizing the more you wear it. And it’s doubtful that anyone has ever made one that fits that bill better than Hanes.