Growing pains.

Close-up macro of a sewing needle with threads under tension.

I love building Mongrel Logic. We are officially into our 6th month as a start-up, on zero budget, that’s just a fact. Although, I look forward to it becoming a historical fact one day. Just saying, I still do the day job as well.

Time has lost all meaning.

Work never stops. There is no such thing as a day off. I’m not complaining, there are just many elements to what I am building. Organic business growth exclusively in our first year is just one of them, which is partly why time has lost all meaning.

Social media has taken over my life.

Days are spent agonising over content I have, knowing more needs to be done, having barely any time to do that, but needing to push on even if it’s not perfect. Even if I haven’t got everything I need. Which is an extremely frustrating problem to have, but essential at this point and an on-going process.

The reel story.

Sorry…The real story is I care about all this. I was born in Africa, I live in the UK. I’ve lived both sides of the solution and the problem. But this blog isn’t about waste. Nor about extremely good quality clothing for an exceptional price. (Shameless plug.)

I draw incredibly weird shit, mythical cosmic world builders, sun eaters, South African crime fighting superheroes, lots of eyeballs. It’s about using creativity to build a way forward. Said every artist ever.

I’m not afraid, to t…struggle in obscurity.

Persistence in the dark. Being unseen until the world is ready. The undertow, the liminality. A lone wolf. Gestating in the undercurrent of, ok, I’ll stop. World domination loading.

Endurance.

Not just a tag line. An essential ingredient to the first year, an ethos, a mindset, an inner vision and outward expression of what it means to live where design chaos and craft collide and what it means to think that survival deserves to be worn.

What does 340gsm mean?

Close-up macro of 340gsm organic cotton hoodie fabric showing dense weave and structure, featuring Lilith’s Corsage.

GSM stands for grams per meter. It’s a measure of fabric weight.
The higher the number, the denser and heavier the fabric.

Is higher GSM better?

Not always. If you wore a 340gsm t-shirt in summer, you would melt.

Durability isn’t just about weight. It’s about construction, fibre quality, and how a garment is put together. But weight matters

Why 340gsm?

340gsm sits at the heavy end of everyday wear. It resists thinning at stress points, it holds its shape, it feels structured, it survives life and washing cycles.

Our 340gsm hoodies and sweaters are made from 50% recycled organic cotton and 50% organic cotton. Recycled cotton reduces waste input; organic cotton reduces chemical load.

Sustainability without durability is theatre.

Whether it’s a day-old button up that’s buttons have come off, or a sweater twists and thins and is unusable in 6 months, circularity doesn’t matter. Longevity comes first.

Why doesn’t everyone talk about gsm?

You don’t really need to. If something feels good enough, that’s usually enough. I care because everything in my cupboard that has been made with consideration, particularly organic cotton, I still have, so many decades later. A sweater that is as good now, as it was in 2012.

I want my clothes to live with me.

Like finding something at the back of a cupboard years later and it still feels epic.
We can do better than garments that fade or break after one wash.

It matters.

The Story Behind Our Art: Building the Mongrel Logic™ Universe

Original lines, translated into thread. The archive, made tangible.

Mongrel Logic didn’t begin as a product line. It began with drawings.

Some of the artwork in our Core range was drawn in the 90’s and early 2000s. Long before hoodies and brands. In fact, what kicked this all off was drawing the embroidery for our Signature cap, more on that another day.

Flaws are as important as perfection.

Keeping the art close to its original form matters, not polishing away the awkwardness, not correcting every detail. Letting the lines stay human. Time will tell if the idea is sound or not. Re-working drawings without erasing where they came from, and building them a future, has been one of the most satisfying parts of all of this.

We are ‘the’ weirdos, mister.

I’m not apologising for it. Art has informed everything from the design of the first cap to the current development of the designer range. Testing art on textiles is the most fun I’ve had in years. Watching something once trapped in a notebook move into fabric feels like unlocking a small universe.

Art is the foundation. Form is the future.

Using my antique, vintage, almost cave-era drawings gives us a clear starting point. Not everyone understands the purple weird monster immediately, that’s fine. It’s supposed to be fun. It’s supposed to feel slightly unfamiliar. It isn’t made for everyone.

Serious comes next.

Right now, it lives simply. A sweater. A graphic. A familiar softness. I put on my own Logic Descends sweatshirt and feel the soft fabric settle. The drawing sits there quietly, carrying two decades of history with it.

This is how the universe builds.

From the archive outward. From the monsters under my bed, to the fabric you can’t say no to.

Testing organic growth, not just organic cotton.

Close-up photograph of my dirt-covered hand placing small marbles on asphalt, symbolising starting from zero and organic growth.

Part of my early strategy is to test organic growth. Our small social accounts have only just found their full vocabulary, and testing has started.

Instagram stats are not a healthy place to live in.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s fun. I’m up for the challenge. But, playing a medium-to-long-term game while looking at daily stats is a bit like watching an hourglass fill, one grain of sand at a time. That part is dull as anything. Luckily, not tied to my personal sense of power or validation, but absolutely tied to planning and upcoming projects.

A Game of Follows.

Sorry…couldn’t help myself. Why am I being such a dick about doing it the hard way? Well, I can’t fully test the financial sustainability of the system without starting with zero.  It’s a lot to explain in a short blog, but part of what I am testing is the zero-start-up (or near zero, let’s face it) cost philosophy as well. But I did start the blog, before all of this was born, with nothing. Free documents, free versions, free everything.

How am I avoiding burnout?

I’ve planned. Most of the end of 2025 was spent documenting, taking pictures of our prints and garments in real life. I have endless content to use; the hard part is putting it together in a way that is legible.

I’m not so good with patience.

I wish there were another two of me. But we’d need to be able to tell each other apart so one of them is a cyclops and the other has snakes for hair. Read into that, what you will. I just mean sheer workload and ability to make time to be able to separate myself from it for long enough to have a good idea. That’s tough.

Speaking of good ideas.

I’m currently working on the latest design. I’ve been recording some of the process, not sure what I’ll share yet, but, fuck ja, if organic growth and slogging sounds familiar to you then join me why don’t you?  

Why we’re building the engine before the designer range.

Abstract hand-drawn black hole sketch representing time, gravity, and systems pulling inward, an early visual study tied to the foundations of Mongrel Logic.

Every brand would love to start with the hero product, the piece that looks like the brand. We do too, but for us that’s the destination, not the starting point.

This isn’t just about organic cotton.

It’s about organic growth. Everything you see here has been built without investors, without paid promotion and without shortcuts. Not because those things are inherently wrong, but because designing out waste is the backbone of how this business works. Including financial waste.

Proof of concept before expression.

Building the engine first has allowed us to test out the logic of the system early. Not just sustainability, but design language, production decisions and how the work is received. It’s also how early signals are built.
It’s a way to learn without burning capital, and to refine without panic. This is how the Designer range gets funded without debt, without rushed decisions, and without compromising the thing its meant to be.

Starting at the “wrong” end.

Most brands build authorship and architecture after they launch, often because the first product has been funded. As it stands today, this little business has no debt, and that’s an intentional constraint. It means doing things in a different order. At times the harder order.

Mongrel Logic.

There’s a reason this business is called Mongrel Logic. I am Mongrel Logic.
It’s frustrating to work with systems that reward speed over thought.  But it’s also incredibly effective at testing whether something can hold its shape.

Time is part of the design.

Time.
And we’re right back to the first blog and where this all started. Time to build the engine. Time to see what holds. Time.
The designer range is coming. Not as a gamble, but the next logical phase.

On a personal note. I’m not good at time. I’d rather walk than wait to catch the bus. I’ll get there faster.  

Designing for Endurance.

Timeless used to be a look that stood the test of time. A quality piece that survived seasons because it outlived its moment. That definition no longer holds.
The quality no longer holds, and the silhouette has gone from timeless to time stamped.

Endurance is practical, not poetic.

Founder working at desk

Designing for endurance begins when you accept reality as the client. Use, time, money, labour and consequence. It shows up in stitching that doesn’t come undone, zips that don’t fail. And it extends beyond the object to the grower, picker, maker; if you’re forced to undercut yourself to remain viable, that fragility is built into the product from the start. Calling something sustainable doesn’t correct that. Paying properly does.

Endurance forces business change.

Most design avoids endurance because it forces long term thinking and costs short term gains. Designing for endurance means not offloading these questions onto the customer. It means building systems through aftercare, design and partnership, where responsibility remains with the maker. Where products can be returned, reused, recycled or passed on without becoming someone else’s problem. Where a product can become an heirloom rather than landfill.  This way of working doesn’t fit neatly into traditional business expectations. It doesn't align well (yet) with shareholder pressure or growth that depends on constant replacement. That friction isn’t accidental, it’s the point.

Endurance changes the customer relationship.

Not through constant novelty, but through trust. Inviting return not just to buy but to see what has been built next.  Through meaning, innovation, and designs that aren’t shaped by hype but instead carry weight, story, ethos and credibility. Ultimately, it’s about responsibility. About refusing artificial exclusivity. And not treating the customer like a cash cow or dishonouring their custom.

Endurance is non-negotiable.

Designing for endurance is not a claim of purity or perfection. It’s a commitment to build under real constraints, economic, material, human and to redefine those choices and the consequences. Redesigning them so there is meaning and reward instead. Selling products that aren’t a lie. That thinking is already being tested in what we’re building now, under real constraints.

Sustainable Streetwear Isn’t a Trend; It’s a Systems Problem.

Systems don’t change themselves.

Sustainability is being treated as a consumer responsibility instead of a system responsibility.

We’ve outsourced accountability downward, to customers, to workers, to suppliers, while profit stays safely at the top. It’s infuriating. And it’s everywhere.

Sustainability talk is booming while quality collapses.

Choice is increasing. Longevity is not. You don’t need to be a designer to notice it. Groceries shrink. Clothes thin. Products fail faster. That contradiction isn’t accidental, it’s engineered. And it shouldn’t be acceptable.

We are not at the end of a solution. We’re at the start of a very long curve.

Sustainability fails the moment it asks the weakest part of the chain to carry the most responsibility.

Fast platforms. Endless drops. “Capsule wardrobe essentials” released weekly. Externalised costs dressed up as innovation. Profit-first systems with zero consideration for product lifecycles, and even less for people.

This is why Mongrel Logic exists as an outlier.

When I first sketched the Designer range, the goal wasn’t to make a cap. It was to make something that lasts a lifetime, with a traceable lifecycle and no future landfill. Not just something you wear, but something that rewires how you think about what you wear. That thinking is already being tested quietly in what we’re building now.

True sustainability isn’t boring.

Yes, it can be slow. Yes, it can be unsexy. It involves trade-offs. It involves constraints. It involves admitting what you don’t control.

But working inside limits isn’t a compromise, it’s a test. A test of whether new ways of thinking, working, and creating are possible without pushing profit upwards and damage cascading down.

Most systems won’t even try. I will.