Fifty thousand daughters in there. Not one of them knows you exist. You feed them, you medicate them, you worry about them through the winter, and in the spring they swarm off without a word. This is the arrangement. You agreed to it.
A shirt for beekeepers who have made peace with being unappreciated by fifty thousand individuals at once.
Wear it when: you're standing in front of the hive again, uninvited, holding a smoker like an apology.
— Garment-dyed ringspun cotton (Comfort Colors 1717). Printed to order. Relaxed fit.
