I've always wondered what it means to carry a design on your back.

You can't see it once you put it on, but everyone walking behind you can. It speaks while you're looking the other way, saying something before you've had the chance to explain yourself.

That feels strangely vulnerable to me. Maybe that's why I started YTE BLK RED.

I wanted to make clothes for the parts of us that are hard to explain: the thoughts we keep circling back to, the feelings we hide badly, the small things that somehow stay with us.

A crow watching from a wall. A balloon trying to escape. A bandaid holding together something that still hurts. I keep returning to these symbols because they feel human — fragile, strange, quietly persistent. I know what they mean to me, but I don't want to decide what they mean to you. Once you wear a design, it becomes part of your story.

YTE BLK RED grew out of WhiteAndBlackAndRed, my world in film production. Maybe that's why I rarely see a design as just an image — I see the moment before it, and the moment after. Sometimes wearing something honest is its own small act of courage.

We care about how the clothes feel as much as what they say — considered fabrics, comfortable silhouettes, small production runs.

I hope you find something here that you connect with — something that tells the world how you really feel