Saxy Thang~ Garment-Dyed T-shirt

The asphalt was still warm that year, even at two in the morning, even with the fog coming down off the hills like something exhaling. You could smell the eucalyptus before you saw the trees — that sharp green medicine smell mixed with salt, with somebody's cigarette three blocks over, with the particular nothing-smell of a town that has decided, collectively, to go to sleep. Streetlights left rings of gold on the wet pavement where the fog hadn't burned off. Somewhere past the boardwalk, past the last bookstore with its lights still on for no one, a saxophone was playing, and nobody could say exactly where it came from.

It found you the way certain songs do — not through the ears first, but lower, in the sternum, in the place where a held breath lives. A brass line, unhurried, climbing and circling back on itself like it had all night and meant to use it. Above the cliffs, the moon had come up enormous and orange-gold, the color of something remembered rather than seen, and against it stood a shape that did not belong to daylight. Tall. Still. Shoulders like a question the dark had finally decided to ask. The horn caught what light there was and turned it to brass fire.

This was not a creature to run from. It never had been, not really — that was only ever the story told in daylight, to daylight people, who needed the dark to have a reason. Up close, if there had been anyone close enough, you'd have seen it wasn't rage in that stance. It was confession. The kind you only make once everyone who might judge you has gone to bed, once the day's version of you has been folded up and put away like a coat you didn't need after all. Some part of every person waits for that hour. Most never let it out. This one had stopped waiting.

Down in town the cassette decks had gone quiet, the porch lights were off, the last car had taken its red taillights up into the hills and not come back. Somewhere, a screen door. Somewhere, the ocean, doing what it always does. And still that low brass sound moved through the streets like it belonged there — like it had always belonged there, long before any of the people sleeping through it were born, and would go on belonging there long after.

The moon heard everything. It just never told anyone what it knew.

Comfort Colors introduces the “Comfort Colors 1717” garment-dyed t-shirt; a fully customizable tee made with 100% ring-spun cotton. The soft-washed, garment-dyed fabric brings extra coziness to your wardrobe while the relaxed fit makes it an excellent daily choice. The double-needle stitching throughout the tee makes it highly durable, while the lack of side seams helps the shirt retain its tubular shape. Discover all 58 colors in our charts below.

.: Heavyweight fabric (6.1 oz/yd² (206.8 g/m²))
.: Relaxed fit
.: Pre-shrunk 100% ring-spun US cotton
.: Available in 58 colors
.: Sewn-in label

EU representative: HONSON VENTURES LIMITED, gpsr@honsonventures.com, 3, Gnaftis House flat 102, Limassol, Mesa Geitonia, 4003, CY

Product information: Comfort Colors® 1717, 2 year warranty in EU and Northern Ireland as per Directive 1999/44/EC

Warnings, Hazard: Made in Honduras

Care instructions: Machine wash: cold (max 30C or 90F), Do not bleach, Tumble dry: low heat, Iron, steam or dry: low heat, Do not dryclean