One shirt stayed on the other side of the split

Two profile heads fill the chest, flat and solid: charcoal on the left, faded coral on the right, both angled the same way. Between them a pale gap widens toward the centre. Tucked inside the coral shape's edge, close to the gap, sits one small solid mark shaped like a shirt — smaller than anything else in the print.

Everything else that got divided is gone from the picture. That one shape is still on the wrong side of it.

Why two heads instead of two full figures?

Because a head in profile is an outline, not a scene.

A full figure invites a setting, a posture, a story about what's happening between them. A head tells you there are two parties and nothing about what either one is doing. That restraint is what keeps the print from being an illustration of an argument — it's a diagram of a division, which is a smaller and more accurate claim.

What is the small tee-shaped mark actually recording?

One object, and which side it ended up on.

Everything in a shared wardrobe that isn't down the middle gets sorted somehow, and most of it sorts itself without anyone deciding on purpose — whoever's closet it was already hanging in, whoever wore it more, whoever happened to be doing laundry that week. The tiny icon marks the one item that crossed to a side it wasn't expected to land on, and stayed there.

What decides how wide the gap between the two heads should be?

However much space is actually left once the shapes are drawn to fit the chest.

The two profiles are sized to fill the panel edge to edge, so the gap is whatever's left between them rather than a distance chosen for effect. A narrower gap reads as two people still close; a wider one reads as more time passed. Either is accurate to a real situation — the design doesn't argue for one over the other.

Do I need permission to print two silhouette heads?

No. A generic profile outline isn't anyone's likeness.

Nothing about a flat, unnamed silhouette identifies a real person, so there's nothing to clear. That changes the moment the shapes are drawn to actually resemble someone specific — hair, jaw, glasses, anything recognisable — at which point it's a portrait of a real person and the same rules apply as drawing anyone else you know from a photo: fine to make for yourself, a different question the moment it's sold to strangers.

Does this only work for a couple?

No — any divided household works the same way.

Roommates who split a flat, housemates who split a kitchen, a band that split its gear: whenever two parties divide a shared set of things, some of it crosses to a side it wasn't obviously meant for. The two-heads-and-a-gap composition doesn't specify what kind of relationship it was, which is why it holds up outside the one it's most often made for.

Isn't this just a shirt about a breakup?

It's a shirt about an object, and the object is the whole content.

The print doesn't say why the shapes divided, doesn't score who has more, and doesn't ask the wearer to explain anything. One item didn't come back. That's a fact about where a shirt is physically located, not a account of what happened between two people, and the design is built to stop exactly there.

Does a flat two-colour split like this print well?

Yes — hard-edged solid shapes are one of the more reliable prints there is.

Both silhouettes are single flat colours with no internal shading, which survives the weave far better than a soft gradient would. Charcoal and a single faded coral on a light base keep enough contrast that the gap between the two reads clearly even at a distance, and the small icon stays legible because it's solid rather than detailed.

How do I get one made?

Describe the two sides and the one object still on the wrong one at JustOG — 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.

It's still hanging on a rail that isn't yours.