Anyone who has ever shopped for a button-up shirt has surely been astounded by the depths of depravity to which clothing-makers sink. The shirt is tightly folded into an awkward rectangle. Cold plastic is tucked away on both sides of the collar. Numerous bits of cardboard and paper hide in the shirt's crevices. And worst of all, an array of plastic and metal clips join forces with eight dozen razor-sharp pins to pinch every bit of stray fabric together. This turns the simple act of trying on a new shirt into a half-hour production. The pointless display must be painstakingly disassembled, creating a pile of environmentally unfriendly waste and filling the blood-stained department store pincushion to the breaking point. Once freed from its bindings, the shirt is covered in rectangular creases that are likely to survive the garment's first washing and beyond; only heavy-duty ironing can undo the madness of man. And woe be upon the poor sap who has to reassemble and reshelve this ungodly puzzle after I decide I don't like the way the shirt fits.
So let it be known throughout the land that I strictly forbid this practice to continue. Under the terms of this fatwa, shirts must now be allowed to hang freely on a rack. I will tolerate the plastic in the collar, which seems to be the only part of this display method with any purpose, but the pins and needles and cardboard and paper must go -- and they must go now! They serve only to torture male clothes-buyers, raise the material cost of the shirts, leave unsightly holes and wrinkles in the fabric, litter our landfills, and destroy our precious trees before I and other well-meaning canines have had a chance to mark them. What a waste. What an evil, evil waste.