
Why some tees come in twenty colors
There's a version of the Mock Layer Tee in almost every order we ship. Short sleeve or long, it shows up in black and navy, and the color someone took a chance on. Often more than one. Not because it's the only thing we make — but because once the fit is right, color becomes the reason to come back.
That's the logic behind a wide palette. It isn't a production decision. It's the recognition that a piece worth wearing regularly is worth having in more than one version.
The Construction Comes First
The pieces that end up offered in the most colors are the ones whose construction has settled into something finished. The Mock Layer Tee works because the layered hem adds dimension without weight. The 3/4 Sleeve V-Neck Shirttail works because the raw hem and the v-neck are doing complementary things, one relaxed, one slightly dressed, without either overpowering the other. The Baby Fit Long Sleeve works because the shrunken crew sits cleanly at the neck, and the fit is close without being tight.
When the details are resolved, color stops being a design question and starts being a personal one.
Why the Palette Looks the Way It Does
Cotton slub is garment-dyed, which means color goes onto the finished garment rather than the yarn. The slub's natural irregularities absorb dye unevenly, producing depth and variation that flat cotton doesn't have. A navy has dimension. A white reads differently depending on what it's next to. That quality comes from the fabric itself, not a finish applied on top of it.
The palette is built around shades that hold up — tones that layer with one another, don't shift dramatically after washing, and work across a wide range of complexions. Some colors return every season. Others come back in a slightly different form, because each dye batch has its own character. That variation is part of what makes the garment feel like it belongs to whoever is wearing it.
On Owning Four of the Same Tee
There's nothing contradictory about it. The black one goes with everything. The navy is for days when black feels too deliberate. The white is for summer and bright rooms. The fourth one — whatever color she reached for — often turns out to be the one that gets the most wear, because it landed in a way she didn't fully anticipate.
A wardrobe built around pieces you trust, in every version of those pieces that's useful to you, is a considered wardrobe. Twenty colors isn't indulgence. It's just enough range to be genuinely useful across a year.




