Where it came from
A Vivienne Westwood exhibition. Then Repo Man. They didn't go together. That was the point.
Paint straight onto a shirt. No plan.
Not a mood board. A compulsion.
No stock. No season. No repeat.








Where it came from
A Vivienne Westwood exhibition. Then Repo Man. They didn't go together. That was the point.
Paint straight onto a shirt. No plan.
Not a mood board. A compulsion.
We can't stop here.
This is bat country.
Heavyweight cotton. Cut boxy. The hem is raw because we left it that way. Nothing exists until you buy it. Nothing is left over.
I better adjust my tongue box.


Every graphic starts as paint on paper. No warehouse, no stock sitting in a box, no second run. Your shirt doesn't exist until you buy it.
Nobody fucks with the Jesus.
Wear it out.
We'll make another.