Pricing a T-Shirt Print Job So You Actually Profit
Plenty of small print shops and hobbyists-turned-sellers price a job the same way: look at what a competitor charges, or just guess at something that feels fair, and hope it works out. The trouble with that approach is it doesn't actually tell you whether you're making money — it's entirely possible to be "busy" with print jobs and still losing money on some of them.
Start with what a print actually costs
A print's true cost has several pieces, and it's easy to forget one or two of them when pricing quickly. There's the screen and setup cost — reclaiming an old screen, coating it with fresh emulsion, burning a new stencil, and the shop time all of that takes. There's the ink itself. There's labor — the time spent actually printing, not just the setup. There's the blank garment. And there's a share of overhead: electricity for the dryer and press, shop rent, and equipment wearing down over time.
Why quantity changes everything
Setup cost is fixed — reclaiming and burning a screen costs roughly the same whether you're printing 10 pieces or 500. That means spreading it across more pieces drops the per-piece share fast. A $50 setup cost spread across 10 prints adds $5 to each one; the same $50 spread across 100 prints adds only 50 cents. This is the entire reason small runs cost noticeably more per piece than large ones, even when the ink, labor, and blank costs per piece are identical — and it's worth explaining to a client who's surprised that a 10-piece order costs more per shirt than a 100-piece order.
A worked example
Say a job has a $50 setup cost, a run of 100 pieces, $0.35 of ink per print, $0.50 of labor per print, a $3.00 blank garment, and $0.15 of overhead per print. The setup cost per piece is $50 ÷ 100 = $0.50. Add that to the rest: $0.50 + $0.35 + $0.50 + $3.00 + $0.15 = $4.50 total cost per print. If you're targeting a 40% profit margin, the suggested sale price is cost ÷ (1 − margin) = $4.50 ÷ 0.60 = $7.50, leaving $3.00 of profit per piece.
Seeing the quantity effect at the extremes
The 10-versus-100 comparison above is a modest example of a much bigger effect at the extremes of order size. Take that same job — $50 setup, $0.35 ink, $0.50 labor, $3.00 garment, $0.15 overhead, 40% margin — and run it at just 12 pieces instead of 100: the setup cost per piece jumps to $4.17, more than eight times what it was at 100 pieces, pushing total cost per print to $8.17 and the suggested price to $13.61. Run the identical job at 300 pieces instead, and setup cost per piece drops to just $0.17, bringing total cost down to $4.17 and the suggested price to $6.94 — nearly half of what the 12-piece version needs to charge, for the exact same per-piece ink, labor, garment, and overhead costs. This is why small custom orders often feel disproportionately expensive to a client comparing per-shirt prices against a bulk order: the underlying costs haven't really changed, but the fixed setup cost is being divided across a much smaller number of pieces.
Why margin-on-price instead of markup-on-cost
Dividing by (1 − margin) rather than simply multiplying cost by a markup percentage is a deliberate choice: it guarantees that the margin you specify is exactly that share of the final sale price, which is usually the number you actually care about. A 40% margin calculated this way means 40 cents of every sale dollar is profit — not 40% added on top of cost, which works out to a smaller share of the sale price than it sounds like. Concretely: a $4.50 cost marked up by 40% (multiplying by 1.4) gives a $6.30 price, but $1.80 of profit on a $6.30 sale is only about 28.6% of the sale price — well short of the 40% margin the shop actually wanted. The margin-on-price method avoids that quiet shortfall.
Treat the suggested price as a floor, not a rule
This kind of calculation tells you what you need to charge to hit your target margin given your real costs — it's a floor, not a ceiling. Market rates, rush turnaround, complex multi-color art, or a client who clearly values the work more than the bare minimum may all justify charging above that floor. What the calculation protects you from is the opposite mistake: quoting a price below your true cost per print because you didn't account for setup cost, overhead, or both, and only noticing the problem after the job is done.
What the basic model leaves out
The example above covers the costs most jobs have in common, but it's a simplified model, not a complete one. It doesn't separately account for reclaim chemicals and materials as their own line item — they're folded into "setup cost" here, but a shop that tracks them precisely might split emulsion, reclaim chemistry, and screen-burning labor into distinct figures. It doesn't account for spoiled prints from a misprint, misregistration on a multi-color job, or a garment ruined partway through — those are real costs that a simple per-piece model doesn't capture unless you explicitly build in a spoilage allowance. And it doesn't account for a screen wearing out and needing replacement after enough reclaim cycles, which is a real, if slow-moving, cost of doing the work at all. Each of these is worth adding to your own model once you're pricing jobs at any real volume, rather than treating the basic four-cost breakdown as the complete picture forever.
Multi-color jobs multiply, they don't just add
A single-color job has one screen, one ink cost, one pass through the dryer. A three-color job doesn't just add a flat amount on top — it needs three screens burned (three times the setup cost, unless you're reusing screens across jobs), ink cost for each color layer, and more printing time per piece since the garment needs a pass under each screen. It's a common pricing mistake to treat a multi-color job as "the one-color price plus a bit more for the extra colors" rather than recalculating setup cost, ink cost, and labor time properly for the actual number of screens and passes involved. A rough shortcut that works reasonably well as a sanity check: multiply setup cost by the number of colors, and add each color's own ink cost per print, rather than trying to eyeball a single blended number. It's also worth pricing in a small allowance for the extra registration time a multi-color job demands — aligning three screens to print cleanly on top of each other consistently takes longer per piece than a single-screen job, even before anything goes wrong, and that time belongs somewhere in the labor line rather than being absorbed silently.
Why margin-on-price instead of markup-on-cost, revisited for multi-color
The same margin-on-price math applies regardless of how many colors are in the design — the target margin is still a share of whatever the final sale price ends up being. What changes with more colors is simply that the cost side of the equation grows, which pushes the required sale price up to hit the same margin. A three-color job with genuinely three times the setup and ink cost of a one-color job at the same margin target will need a meaningfully higher price, not a small bump — and a shop that doesn't reflect that in its pricing is quietly accepting a lower real margin on every multi-color order it takes.
Deposits protect against the setup-cost risk specifically
Because setup cost is paid whether or not a client ultimately confirms the full order, many shops collect a deposit before burning screens on a custom design — effectively covering the setup cost, or a meaningful share of it, before committing shop time to a job that might still fall through. This isn't about distrust of any particular client; it's a direct response to the same math above: setup cost is a real, fixed cost incurred early in the job, and a shop that absorbs it on every quote that doesn't convert is quietly funding its non-paying inquiries out of the margin on the jobs that do.
Keep your own numbers current
Ink prices, blank garment costs, and your own labor rate all drift over time, and a pricing model built on stale numbers will quietly under-price every job until you update it. It's worth revisiting your actual costs every few months — check what you're really paying for ink and blanks right now, and adjust your overhead estimate if your rent or equipment costs have changed — rather than pricing every job off a spreadsheet from a year ago.
The same discipline applies to the costs that are easy to undercount because they don't show up on a supplier invoice: reclaim chemicals, screen replacement, and the real cost of spoiled prints from registration drift or a bad pull. A full accounting of what a print run costs, including screens and waste, is worked through with its own numbers in costing a print run properly — worth reading once you've got the basic model here down, since it's the part most pricing guides skip entirely.