1. Treat the tee with the utmost seriousness. We clearly do.

2. Treat the tee with complete levity. As with life, so too with tees. The genesis of every Sascha Says tee is laughter in the studio followed by the now-familiar catchphrase, "That would look great on a tee-shirt!"

Like a haiku or a three-inch power punch, a tee should be swift, sharp, strong of grip, sure of purpose. Every now and then, you should pass a tee in the street, laugh out loud, and still be chuckling two blocks later.

3. Make tees that will last. The idea, image or joke should last. Should have staying power, that x-factor that makes it grow and change, dare we say, mature? with you. There should come a night at a party, late, when somebody says, "I like your shirt" and you look down, half-surprised, oh-this-old-thing, as though seeing it afresh for the first time in years.

The tee itself should last, comfortable fabrics cut to stylish, well-made patterns. Wear and tear should imply you've cared to pull it on every other day.

That said, support local produce. (We don’t mean the crisis besetting Australia’s fruit sticker industry.) Make tees that are manufactured locally, for political reasons so obvious that we can’t go into them right now.

4. Make tees that become favourites. Not every Sascha Says tee can be your favourite ("Unless you misunderstand the concept of 'a favourite'," says Sam), but they will try. As with any relationship, so too with tees.

Favourites are tees that you wear at Sunday breakfast, or are carefully tucked under the pillow for every night. Favourite tees say safety, say go-anywhere: you wear them to a party when you don't know anybody there, or to the emergency room, or stranded on a desert island.

5. Death to the button. Nothing says carefree yet straightforward than pulling a tee on (or off) in your excitement. All this buttoning and unbuttoning; this must stop.

6. All human communication should eventually be through tees.