A punch card that runs out whether or not it's used
A row of five small circles, some struck through and some left whole, printed above a line that names a window rather than a purchase count.

Five small circles in a row, high on the left chest. Some sit as solid discs of red ink, worn and uneven at the edges. Others are left as pale rings, open in the middle. Under the row, in small dark type: TOUCH-UP WITHIN ONE YEAR.
It looks like a loyalty card. It reads like one too, until you notice the line underneath isn't counting anything — it's naming a deadline.
What's actually printed on this shirt?
A small punch-card design, worn small and high on the chest rather than centred and large.
Five circles sit in a single row, drawn the way a stamped card gets drawn after enough use — some filled solid, some left open, the ink itself gone slightly uneven the way real stamping ink does. Underneath, one short line states the card's actual rule: TOUCH-UP WITHIN ONE YEAR.
Why put an expiry on it instead of just a discount?
Because a punch card usually promises a reward for use, and this one is doing something different — it's marking a window, not a tally.
A card that says "your tenth is free" rewards showing up. A card that says "good for one year" doesn't care how many times you show up inside that year; it cares that the year is the whole offer. Once it closes, the circles stop meaning anything, filled or not. That's a different shape of promise, and the design says so plainly rather than dressing an expiry up as a reward.
Does a filled circle mean something different from an open one?
Almost certainly, to whoever issued this particular card — and that's exactly the part a stranger looking at the shirt isn't meant to read off it.
A real shop's own system for what gets marked and when belongs to that shop, the same way a booking card's private shorthand belongs to whoever filled in its rows. The design keeps that logic intact — some full, some open — without spelling out the key, because the key was never the point of wearing it. The point is the line underneath, which anyone can read.
What if the wearer never uses it at all?
Nothing changes about the design. A card like this states a window, not an obligation, and an unused window still closes on schedule.
Does a year make sense for every kind of touch-up?
That's a real choice, and it's the one thing about this design worth thinking through before getting a version made: a year fits the pace most colour and fine linework actually settles at, which is a different drawing from what a line looks like fresh — but a shop with a different rhythm might print a different term. The circles and the line both travel; only the number in the sentence needs to change.
Who owns a design like this?
Nobody — a row of stamped circles and a short line of type is a generic record-keeping format, not anyone's proprietary artwork.
A specific studio's actual card, reproduced with its real name, its real stamp, or its real handwriting copied exactly, would be that studio's material and would need permission the way any branded document does. This one carries no name and no logo, which is what keeps it a plain, wearable object rather than someone else's paperwork.
Does this format work for anything besides a touch-up?
Yes — any offer that's bounded by time rather than by count fits the same shape: a membership that lapses, a warranty that expires, a class pass good through the season. What changes is the sentence underneath the circles; the row of marks and the deadline it sits above are doing the same job either way.
Does it print well?
Yes, and it's an easy one — a short palette and a small footprint, which is most of what a print like this needs to go right.
Two inks carry the whole design: the red for the circles, kept as flat filled shapes rather than a soft gradient, and the dark type underneath at a size that still holds its edges this small. A design this compact has to earn its size rather than fight it — which this one does, since nothing in it needs to read from across a room.
How do I get one made?
Describe the record at JustOG — how many circles, what the line underneath should say, and how worn the stamping should look. 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.
A year from now, the line underneath still says the same thing. The circles just stop mattering.