+Have you ever tried to escape a feeling by finding something louder?
i have.
And for a while, i got pretty fucking good at it — a bad night became another drink, a memory became desire, silence became music loud enough to fill the room, and some nights i'd get on my bike and go fast enough that my head finally shut up and paid attention.
It worked, sometimes. Then everything went quiet again, and there it was.
i guess DIE LOUD started around there — not because i wanted a clothing brand, but because i was tired of escaping one feeling by chasing another one strong enough to bury it. You know how it goes: you already know what's behind that door, and you open it anyway.
At some point, instead of closing those doors, i started drawing them — writing things down at night, three words, ten, back to three, staring at photographs and faces and typography until something felt true, then deleting the whole thing anyway because it looked good but felt like nothing.
If i couldn't feel it, it wasn't done. That became the only rule.
You know when a song says something you never knew how to say, or you see an image and, for some fucking reason, it feels too familiar? That's what i wanted — graphics like tattoos i didn't want to keep only on my own skin.
Not my story. Just what it left behind. You haven't made my mistakes, i haven't made yours — maybe what you miss has a different face, maybe what you keep going back to has a different name. Doesn't matter. Sometimes the noise sounds the same.
And if someone looks at a DIE LOUD graphic and thinks, for one second, fuck, i know exactly what that feels like — that's enough for me.
The clothes were never the beginning. The noise was.