One blank line is holding up the other six

Seven lines in ballpoint on paper gone soft and translucent at the corners. Six carry a tick: gearbox mount, prop shaft, wiring loom, exhaust downpipe, radiator, driveshafts. The seventh doesn't. Underlined beneath it: still need the ECU.

Six ticks look like progress. The one blank line is the reason none of the six can be used yet.

What is this list actually recording?

Not a shopping list — a dependency order, written down as a column.

A shopping list is items you'll get to eventually, in any order that suits you. This one isn't that. The gearbox mount, the prop shaft, the loom, the downpipe, the radiator and the driveshafts can all sit fitted and ready, and the car still won't run, because none of them does anything without the part that isn't there yet. Writing it as a plain list hides that structure. Reading it correctly means noticing which line the other six are waiting on.

Why does the ECU hold up parts that have nothing to do with it electrically?

Because "fitted" and "working" aren't the same claim, and the list only tracks the first one.

A prop shaft can be bolted in and spin freely. A radiator can be plumbed and full. None of that proves the engine will start, because starting depends on a control unit matched to that specific engine, and until it's in the car every other tick is provisional — correct, but not yet tested by the only thing that actually tests it.

What makes a list like this worth reading, rather than just a checklist?

The handwriting, and what's been underlined without being asked to be.

Nobody told the person filling this in to underline the last line. They did it because after six ticks in a row, writing the seventh item the same size as the rest wasn't going to say what needed saying. That's the tell that separates a real list from a printed one: the emphasis is added by whoever needed it, at the exact point they needed it.

Who owns the words on a parts list?

Nobody. Gearbox mount, prop shaft, downpipe — these are what the parts are called, not anybody's property.

A generic description of a component isn't a trademark and isn't a design. What is owned is a specific manufacturer's part number, a model name and a maker's badge — licensable in the usual way if a real one is the point of the shirt. Left invented, the list stays exactly what it's meant to be: the wearer's own project, not a catalogue page.

Does this work for a project that isn't a car?

Any build with a real dependency between its parts, yes.

A boat rebuild, a motorbike restoration, a house extension held up by one delivery — anywhere several finished tasks are all waiting on a single unfinished one. It also reads well as a gift for somebody mid-project: not the tools, but the exact state the job is stuck in, which is the same instinct behind stamping the day a part was pulled rather than just what it is.

Isn't a list with an unfinished line a strange thing to put on a shirt?

Only if unfinished reads as failure, and here it doesn't — it reads as accurate.

A swap that's been sitting for months with one part outstanding isn't a project that's gone wrong; it's a project at a specific, nameable stage, and the underline is a note the owner wrote to themselves, not an apology to anyone else. The six ticks are just as true as the blank line. Both belong on the shirt, the same way an empty pocket in a tool roll tells you something a full one can't.

Does it print well?

Yes, provided it stays close to handwriting rather than becoming a typeset checklist.

Ballpoint-weight linework in cream reads correctly on charcoal; the ticks want to look drawn, not like a checkmark glyph pulled from a font. Keep the green to the underline and nowhere else, so the one emphasised line stays the only coloured mark on the shirt. Seven lines is already the right amount of text — don't add a heading or a date the original wouldn't have had.

How do I get one made?

Describe your list at JustOG — which parts are ticked, and which line is still open. Pick a direction, drag the crop frame, see it composited on the real garment, and it's made to order and shipped.

Designs other people have published are in the shop.

Six ticks in a row, and a car that still won't start without the seventh.