Two dazzling Fashion degrees, and now I'm printing ready-made t-shirts.
Listen, it's not like I'm lazy, or that I "don't know what I'm doing".
I did try to develop my own t-shirt line from scratch with a manufacturer that knew all the science, the artistry and the majesty of jersey because, yeah - I'm a technical smarty. But I got ghosted.
So I hit the panic button and decided 'That's it, I'm gonna have to print ready-made t-shirts. FML'. Goodbye, carefully engineered print placement. Goodbye, neckline designed to the millimetre.
I know this is how every famous Streetwear brand started out, and look at them. All unapologetically dropping a new logo t-shirt every month and getting sold out every time. Really, I've seen some Fruit of the Loom t-shirts even at Dover Street Market.
But dammit, I want my t-shirts to be special! I've had this "one day I'm gonna do my own thing" fantasy bottled up in me for so long, and there's so much creative drive and sparkly pizazz covered in fairy dust glitter I want to get out of my system, the 30 x 40 cm size limit imposed by the garment printing company feels like a dusty cloud of Meh raining all over my dream (no, I'm not theatrical).
Use your artist brain.
My lizard brain hates when things go wrong after a lot of planning, hard work and other grow-up business endeavours. With an over-developed amygdala like this, I wonder if I got sucked into a creative field as an elaborate plan of my higher consciousness to make me more chill. Maybe it's even a prank, who knows.
In any case, I had 60 t-shirts - 30 black and 30 white, game-changing - that had my print but didn't feel all that special to me, and I couldn't sell them like that.
Where's the danger? What's the fun in selling a t-shirt that won't prompt your beer-bellied uncle to poke some fun of your life decisions?
Can't do that.
Cue in my artist brain response to everything Meh: let's paint it! With the roughest brush strokes possible! Weeeee!
60 hand painted t-shirts later...
Now I have something I wanna take closeup pictures of and make a bunch of Instagram stories, with hashtag one-of-a-kind as each t-shirt's slightly different from the other, due to the very artisanal process.
A couple of t-shirts with enough character to last for 12+ years of intense wearing and washing - to give my old Mickey t-shirt a break, before it disintegrates for good next time I need a not-so-basic top to wear with my sailor trousers or my white Comme des Garçons skirt.
Mickey t-shirt could use a substitute.
Bonus: in super comfy organic cotton, which was easy to source since there's no shortage of options in ready-made basics.
Enjoy the process in the video below, and I'll see you in the shop.
The white version, w/ short sleeves.