The blend is built around your tap, not your taste
A merchant's tea ticket names hard water, not a flavour, and its three leaf percentages are printed so they visibly add to a hundred.

A small printed ticket, ruled in a thin border. BREAKFAST No 4. Underneath it, BLENDED FOR HARD WATER.
Then a table: ASSAM 60, CEYLON 30, KEEMUN 10. At the foot, BREW 4 MIN.
Everything on it is a number except the four words that explain why the numbers are what they are.
What does "blended for hard water" actually mean?
That this tea was built around a tap, not a taste.
Water carrying more dissolved mineral holds back a delicate leaf — the same brew that tastes bright in soft water reads flat and dull once it's made with hard water instead. A merchant selling a breakfast blend for a hard-water region compensates by leaning on stronger, more robust leaf that still comes through regardless, which is a claim about the buyer's kitchen tap printed right there on the ticket, next to a claim about the tea.
Why does a breakfast blend need three different teas at all?
Because no single leaf does every job a strong morning brew is asked to do.
Assam gives the malty backbone that carries through milk. Ceylon brightens it back up so the cup isn't flat. Keemun, in a smaller share, adds a smoky depth underneath both. Blended in proportion, three ordinary leaves produce a cup none of them makes alone — which is the entire reason blending is a trade rather than a shortcut.
What makes 60, 30 and 10 a good ratio to print rather than a private one?
That the three numbers visibly add to a hundred.
A blender could print any proportion and expect to be trusted, but ASSAM 60, CEYLON 30, KEEMUN 10 is a merchant showing their working on the label itself — the maths checks out without asking. Most packaging keeps its exact ratio secret, so a ticket that states it plainly is doing something closer to a spec sheet than an advertisement.
Do I need permission to name a real tea merchant's blend?
Not for a blend you've invented, but a real one's name and recipe are theirs to license.
A ratio of Assam, Ceylon and Keemun and a claim about hard water are facts about tea and water, not property — nobody owns the idea that mineral content affects extraction. A specific named merchant's exact blend and their trading name are a different matter, licensable the usual way if putting a real shop on a shirt is the point. This ticket's invented merchant sidesteps that and lets the number belong to whoever's actually pouring the kettle.
Does the hard-water idea apply beyond tea?
Anywhere the same product is adjusted for what comes out of a particular tap.
A brewer salting soft water with mineral additions to match a famous hard-water brewing town's original supply is the same instinct in another trade — a product tuned to a place rather than sold as one fixed formula everywhere. A wine label's back text does the equivalent job for a bottle: the facts that actually change from one bottle to the next, printed plainly where the front label doesn't bother to look. The principle behind it is close to a row of spice tins, each labelled for one job on a shelf — no single ingredient does the whole job alone, so the combination is the actual product.
Isn't printing a brew time on the label a bit much for a bag of tea?
Only if you assume every leaf behaves the same for the same length of time.
Four minutes is long enough to draw the malt out of Assam without stewing the Keemun into bitterness, which is a real trade-off a blender has already made on the drinker's behalf. Leaving it off the ticket wouldn't make the tea less sensitive to timing — it would just mean nobody told you, the same gap an oven timing chart closes for a roast: somebody else's judgement, handed over as a number so it doesn't have to be relearned from scratch.
Does it print well?
Yes — a ruled ticket with a small table is a naturally graphic shape.
Gold and cream on a dark green ground keep it close to an actual tin's foil-stamped label, and the ruled lines should stay hairline-thin rather than thickening into bars. The table's numbers are the smallest detail here and want setting a touch larger and bolder than the original ticket, so BREW 4 MIN still reads clearly at chest-print scale.
How do I get one made?
Describe the ticket at JustOG — the blend number, the leaf ratio, and what the tea is built for. 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.
Sixty, thirty and ten, printed small enough that most buyers don't stop to add them up.