Get the tank out for summer

The word sando has possible Japanese origins, according to Jean-Paul G. Potet, a French scholar specializing in Tagalog language and culture, and the Komisyon sa Wikang Pilipino. In Kapampangan it’s sandu, while in Bikolano and Waray, it’s also sando. The earliest documented use of the word was in the Official Gazette of the Japanese Military Administration of the Philippines, Vol. 2 from 1943.

Another theory says it originates from the German vaudeville showman and bodybuilder Eugene Sandow (1867-1925) who wore a sleeveless shirt when showing his muscles on tour around the world. The sando was always meant to be used as an undershirt, but you would see it in the streets when the heat turns up and laborers or streetside vendors would be sporting it on its own. It was also used as athletic wear for sports.

One of the earliest and most scandalous editions of the tank top was actually the one worn by women—at the 1912 Olympics, to be exact, when the British women’s swim team showed up in a uniform that bared their arms. Previously, men already wore these sleeveless tops for freedom of movement but women’s swimsuits were designed for modesty with covered upper arms and extra layers of fabric around the waist, preventing them from fitting too close to the body even when wet. The garment took its name from swimming pools which were called tanks in Britain. In France, they were called marcel after Marcel Eisenberg whose company popularized the undershirt which became the débardeur of Parisian laborers who unloaded goods at a quay. In Belgium, it was the singlet.

Although British women caused a stir, the tank top came to be associated not with female sports legends but with “macho” men, thanks to Hollywood. Clark Gable in Idiot’s Delight (1931) was smoldering in it while pushing it into mainstream visibility, demonstrating how it could be worn confidently as outerwear. Marlon Brando’s portrayal of Stanley Kowalski in A Streetcar Named Desire (1951) made it an icon of raw masculinity the way it showcased his muscular physique in a tight, sweat-soaked version. By the time Bruce Lee wore it for The Way of the Dragon, it acquired the added appeal as a garment of strength and agility, redefining it as sleek and athletic.

This jump from innerwear to outerwear, however, was not without its share of negative connotations, being called the “dago tee” or “guinea tea” —offensive epithets directed at Italian immigrants who brought this sartorial choice to New York where it was suitable for the sweltering summer humidity.

Racists viewed the Italians’ tanks as a working-class garment and came up with the derogatory terms as a way to ostracize these foreigners who were often poor and did manual labor. An even more offensive term was “wife-beater” rooted in negative stereotypes and cultural representations that associate the undershirt with hyper-masculinity, domestic violence and social class. Brando’s Stanley is typical of how the greatest portrayals of the tank in films are in immigrant and working-class communities where abusive, wife-beating men are the norm—a recurring stereotype in the Tennessee Williams oeuvre populated by monstrous, boorish husbands. 

The ribbed undershirt became an unconventional fashion choice which made it popular in the 1960s among the hippie and counterculture movements, a form of rebellion against traditional norms. The next decade saw it used by strong, independent women like Ali MacGraw who was known for her casual but chic style, prompting brands like Hanes to introduce different colors and designs, breaking away from its undergarment origins.

By the 1980s, embellishments made it fit right in with disco culture while punks paired them with ripped jeans and leather jackets. The 1990s minimalism signaled a return to neutrals of white, black and grey. In the 2000s, the tank became more fitted and cropped, even exposing the midriff in consonance with body con trends. It has now transitioned into a universal wardrobe staple of casual streetwear, sportswear and high fashion.

With its long history, the tank top has accrued a host of cultural associations—as masculine or feminine or worn the way the LGBTQ+ have worn it to subvert traditional gender roles. “It’s a great vernacular piece with a macho allure but also a strong butch lesbian feeling, a strong sexual charge that’s somewhat transgressive,” says Valerie Steele of the Museum at the Fashion Institute of Technology. “Also because it was first intended as undergarment, to wear it on its own instantly imparts an eroticism. It’s sexy and young but not in a way that’s bourgeois or uptight.”