Not long after this I collected two more Smiths shirts: a brown baby-doll tee with Morrissey sprawled languorously on train tracks to promote a 2006 four-song solo EP, and a boxy black-and-red number that depicted one of Morrissey’s beloved film stars pensively holding a cigarette underneath the band’s name. Both were acquired within a few months of each other for under five dollars from the clearance rack of our mall’s Hot Topic, that great bastion of standard-issue teenage angst and horrific skull-print dresses. I guess the nu-gothy masses weren’t aware of the massive spiritual debt they owed Moz.