Green heart, because Virginia is somehow 70% forest, 20% humidity, and 10% people arguing about whether they live in the South or just near it. The whole state is a lush, rolling, mountains-to-ocean flex, and everybody else is straight up jealous. That is the other thing green means, by the way. Envy. Your friends in flatter, uglier states know exactly what this shirt is doing to them.
It also works in spring, when the pollen rolls through like a biblical event and every car, porch and dog turns the same color as this heart. You will cough for six weeks and still say it is worth it, because an hour later you are eating a country ham biscuit at the foot of a blue ridge and life is undefeated.
Soft enough to live in, sturdy enough to survive a humid tailgate, a mountain hike and roughly nine hundred wash cycles. The print stays sharp, the fabric keeps its shape, and the fit stays comfortable whether you are commuting, camping, or doing absolutely nothing.
