Eutanashya wasn’t planned. It started with a failed band and some leftover tees.
It stayed because I couldn’t sleep and needed to make something real.
Not pretty. Not commercial. Just honest.
I design because I’m tired of what I see.
Mexico’s streetwear scene is full of brands printing bullshit on garbage blanks,
copying Pinterest, calling it culture.
This isn’t that.
Eutanashya is for people who know the weight of what they wear.
People who understand Raf, Margiela, Gaultier —not just by name, but by instinct.
People who see beauty in damage. Who find meaning in the uncomfortable.
Who know that wearing something is also a statement. A scream. A refusal.
I didn’t make this for everyone.
I made it for the ones who feel too much and say too little.
For the ones raised on Joy Division and Lou Reed,
for those who find more truth in a scratched CD than in a fashion week runway.
If you get it, you get it.
If you don’t, keep scrolling.
This isn’t merch.
It’s the evidence I was here.
And maybe, that you were too.