It all began on an ordinary night — the kind where you’re half bored, half lost in the endless scroll of Instagram. And then… it happened.

I saw those posters. Bold. Powerful. Designed with a kind of magic I couldn’t explain. My heart actually skipped.

“People create this? Maybe… I can too.”

That tiny spark became a flame.

I threw myself into YouTube tutorials like a man possessed. Hours turned into days, days into months. Adobe Illustrator became my escape, my obsession, my entire world.

Then — just when I felt like I was finally improving — my laptop died. No warning, no mercy.

Everything went black.

And for a moment… so did my hopes.

But something inside me refused to quit. I scraped together everything I had and bought a computer. If passion demanded sacrifice, I was ready.

I kept posting my designs on Instagram. One day, I got my first client. I was excited, nervous, clueless — and he ghosted me before we even started.

It felt embarrassing. Like my first real chance had slipped right through my fingers.

But I didn’t stop.

A month later, a new client messaged me for T-shirt designs. I sold him two. Then another client came — and I sold five more.

Suddenly, the idea hit me like a punch of adrenaline:

“Why am I designing for others when I can build something of my own?”

That was the moment the dream of my own clothing brand was born.

I spoke to every manufacturer I could find. Four, five — none felt right. Finally, I chose one. I thought I had found someone I could trust.

But that decision?

It almost broke me.

I handed over all the files. He promised delivery in 10 days.

But when I walked into his office after those 10 days…

He hadn’t even started.

My stomach sank.

Still, I gave him more time.

Twenty days later, he showed me one sample — the wrong placement, the wrong size, everything wrong.

I told him I wanted to cancel.

He refused to return my advance.

Two, three hours of arguing… my voice broke, my patience broke — but he didn’t.

I felt trapped. Frustrated. Angry.

And yet, I said the only thing that made sense in that moment:

“Fine. Start again. Do it properly.”

Another month passed.

Three more samples.

Three more disappointments.

Three more nights where I questioned if I should just give up.

But then… finally…

After all the mistakes, delays, and stress — the perfect T-shirt came into my hands.

That was the moment I knew:

This wasn’t just a T-shirt.

It was proof — that I had survived every setback, every failure, every moment that tried to break me.

And with that single T-shirt, I launched my first collection…

the beginning of my own brand.