You could call it a T-shirt, but that would be like calling Bond’s tuxedo “something to wear at dinner.”
Soft as a well-traveled passport, this is the shirt you reach for when the evening has no script. Vintage Black, the shade of midnight alleyways and old jazz records, sets the stage. Across the chest, the EVEN mark—quiet, centered, self-assured. A declaration without shouting.
Made for airports and after-hours, for slipping into conversations where others are still explaining themselves. It doesn’t ask for attention. It earns it.
