About Us – Pewdebris

Not everyone fails spectacularly. But Pewdebris did.

At Pewdebris, it’s not just about selling clothes; it’s a quiet nod of understanding to anyone who’s ever felt like life’s a bit of a glorious, messy, beautiful failure. Pewdebris wasn’t born from a grand vision or a marketing strategy. It started, quite simply, with a sloth.

The Origin Story: A Sloth and a Realization

The founder, Mason Cross, once showed up to a job interview in a dress shirt featuring a tiny sloth peeking out from under the cuff. He thought it was a subtle touch of personality. The interviewer, apparently, did not. No callback. That night, a quiet social media post (“Note to self: Don’t put a sloth on your interview shirt.”) received precisely zero likes and zero comments, save for a single 🤦‍♂️ emoji from a friend.

But something about that shirt felt right. It was honest in a way a polished resume never could be. So Mason made a few more. Not because he expected them to fly off the shelves, but because they resonated with a raw, relatable truth. It was the beginning of Pewdebris – a brand built on the quiet misfires and beautiful debris of everyday life.

Pewdebris began with a folder full of failed design files, a cheap heat press, and a lingering sense of unfinished business. This isn’t about celebrating failure, but rather acknowledging it, sitting with it, and finding a little bit of comfort and connection in the shared human experience of trying (and sometimes spectacularly not succeeding).

The Process: Slow, Imperfect, and Deeply Personal

Every single design from Pewdebris is born from a real-life “oops” moment. Inspiration comes from the universal struggles: missed deadlines, rejected applications, frustrating creative blocks, ruined pitches, and those days when everything feels off. very shirt is made to order—meaning printing only begins after your order is placed. Why? Because Pewdebris would rather make one shirt that matters than sit on a pile of ones that don’t.

Each shirt is a labor of love, printed meticulously by hand in Albuquerque, New Mexico. No sprawling factories. Just slow, deliberate, and yes, sometimes imperfect work from someone who’s probably also behind on something right now. This hands-on approach ensures that every piece carries a bit of that genuine, human touch.

Pewdebris takes quality seriously, which is why every single piece is test-worn before it ever ships out. If a shirt can’t withstand at least one good emotional collapse and two back-to-back deadlines, it simply doesn’t make the cut. Pewdebris chooses Bella+Canvas blanks not because they’re trendy, but because they’re soft, ethically made, and durable enough to survive the kind of weeks where you forget how many days it’s been since you last did laundry.

Each shirt goes through heat pressing one by one, using a home setup with a vinyl cutter, a commercial-grade press, and a lot of lint rollers. Alignment is done by eye, measured by instinct, and sometimes triple-checked when the design includes text (because crooked words hit differently). If the temperature is off by even a few degrees, the print peels. If the pressure isn’t right, the vinyl bubbles. Nothing moves forward unless it passes what we call the “ugh, fine—I’d wear this” test.

Who It’s For: The Beautifully Imperfect

Pewdebris is for those who keep trying, even when “success” feels far away.

Are you the student who’s renamed the same file five times and still missed the deadline?

The designer who cried over client feedback only to laugh through the tears?

The person who feels like a functional adult—only on paper?

Ever canceled plans just to stare at the ceiling? Worn the same hoodie for days? Sent a bold email and immediately wanted to disappear?

If that’s you, welcome. You’re not broken. You’re just processing. And sometimes, that quiet, relatable struggle deserves a shirt.

What Pewdebris Stands For: Resonance Over Perfection

This isn’t about chasing perfection; it’s about resonance. That quiet internal “yep, that’s me” when a shirt says what you didn’t even know you needed to admit. Not fast fashion. Just slow, slightly crooked, emotionally accurate clothing—for people who are tired, still trying, and still showing up.

The Promise: You’ll Make It Too

At Pewdebris, nothing gets shipped unless it’s been worn during at least one gentle spiral. Every shirt has failed once—maybe twice—before reaching your hands. But somehow, it still made it.

And so will you.

Pewdebris

Wear something that’s already failed, so you don’t have to.

Need Help?

If you have any questions about your order or our shipping policy, please contact us:

Address: 215 7th St NW, Albuquerque, NM 87102

Email: [email protected]

Phone: +1 (505) 720-8718

Support Time: Mon–Sun: 8:00 AM-5:00 PM MST

A young man sits cross-legged on the carpeted floor of a small, sunlit bedroom that has been fully taken over by his T-shirt printing workspace. He wears a white graphic tee printed with a cute cartoon tiger and the quote “The stripes of a tiger are nature’s signature.” His focused expression contrasts with the creative chaos around him — a room that’s clearly both his studio and sanctuary. Surrounding him is a cluttered scene of production in progress: A mix of gray, white, and off-white T-shirts is scattered across the floor in varying stages of preparation — some neatly folded, some wrinkled or rolled, and others laid out as if recently printed or awaiting inspection. Near his side is a compact heat press machine (partially visible or pushed to the edge), with a stack of blank T-shirts next to it, ready for printing. A cutting mat, box cutter, and measuring ruler rest nearby, used for trimming transfer sheets or label tags. Lint rollers, scissors, heat-resistant tape, and sheets of transfer paper are spread out in controlled disarray — clearly being used throughout the process. A shipping scale, a pile of poly mailers or cardboard boxes, and a label printer sit in one corner of the room, signaling that packing and shipping are part of today’s workload. A label sheet with barcodes and a small stack of hang tags suggest branding is done manually as well. A thermal mug half-filled with coffee and a few crumpled note pages lie nearby — remnants of a long, possibly late-night working session. Behind him, the bed is messy, its beige blanket half-sliding off and partly covered with more shirts, packaging tape, and test prints. Sunlight spills through partially drawn curtains, casting a golden glow over the scene and highlighting the soft textures of cotton and the paper tools. This is a space that feels real, lived-in, and full of intent — where every imperfection is part of the process. A snapshot of someone building a brand from the ground up with raw effort, limited space, and a passion for honest, handmade work.