Cut me, this place is dead

“CUT ME, THIS PLACE IS DEAD” — the sacred war cry of every front-of-house warrior marooned in a graveyard shift purgatory.

Meet our skeletal hostess with the mostest: a wine-slinging, tip-hustling revenant who’s seen more dry tables and bad tippers than you’ll ever bitch about on your smoke break. She’s been stiffed, stiffed again, and now she’s just plain stiff — yet here she stands, apron on, grin locked, and sarcasm pouring smoother than the house red.

This isn’t a cute uniform tee. It’s a badge of the undead — for servers who’d rather bleed out than fake another “How’s everything tasting tonight?”

For the graveyard girls, the dead-eyed hustlers, the living proof that sarcasm keeps you warm when the shift won’t.
--
Whether you're layering up for the walk-in or winding down with something brown in a glass, it’s got the weight and structure to remind you: you survived the night.
100% cotton, unless it’s grey — then it’s a bit of a mutt (but still loyal)
Built thick enough to handle fryer smoke and shame

Stitched tough — no flimsy fashion seams here

Fits like it’s meant to — not clinging, not sloppy, just right

Sourced from places where people still work for a living.
Worn by people who never stop.


Every piece is made just for you the moment you order. That means it takes a little longer to show up at your door — but we’re not cranking out piles of landfill fashion no one asked for.

We make it on demand, not on autopilot.
No waste. No warehouse full of crap.
Just a slower, smarter way to get gear that actually matters.

Thanks for giving a damn. Most people don’t.