Our Story

How It Started

False Idols was born from the ambition of three high school students who wanted to build something real. Kelon started it with a hand-me-down heat press from his dad, who had once run a clothing business of his own. His dad handed over some leftover transfers and old designs. One phrase stood out: False Idols. That became the name—and the start.

Kelon brought in two friends. The three had history. They’d once run a snack hustle at school that got shut down for being too good at what it did. A clothing brand felt like the next step. They thought it would be simple—make a good design, get it made, and start selling. It wasn’t.

They started designing on Canva. The results were rough. Kelon slowly took over design duties, eventually learning GIMP. At first, they didn’t even know what the brand was saying. Their early designs put figures like Drake and Kanye on T-shirts as “false idols,” but that didn’t feel right. They started tossing around a new idea: what if this brand wasn’t about them—what if it was about you?

That’s where the idea of a Revolutionist came in. Someone who didn’t follow blindly. Someone who thought for themselves. The first decent design was a Playboi Carti tee that sparked real interest.

Kelon’s uncle saw the early designs and offered to fund production. It felt like a win. But when the products arrived two months later, they looked nothing like what they’d envisioned. A painful misstep. No one told them manufacturers needed detailed specs, not just a tech pack and hope. They felt like they’d wasted the money.

Still, they didn’t quit. That summer, Kelon locked in. Two weeks of straight GIMP practice. Out of that grind came a design that would define the brand: a skeleton praying beside the words Thou Shall Not Worship False Idols. It clicked. The team believed in it.

This time, Kelon measured a hoodie at home, made a proper tech pack, and they pooled $270 to order samples. Just a few shirts and hoodies. Not enough to sell for profit, but enough to run a pre-order campaign.

They promoted it through Instagram posts and word of mouth at school. The results? Crickets. Two weeks passed with barely a bite. When they did get an order, they didn’t even have the money to ship it. They refunded the buyer and regrouped.

That’s when the video content started. Kelon learned how to edit with Canva, then Photoshop. They began posting videos, and one pulled in 1,000 views in a day. Progress. Slowly, they got better. The hoodie evolved—new cuts, cuffs, hems, pockets. Cleaner design, better feel.

Ash’s brother believed in them. He put in $443. With it, they ordered a second version of the Skeleton Hoodie. By August 2024, they had 17 of them. Not perfect, but miles ahead of where they’d started.

This time, they had a real plan. Five campaign phases. One video a day. 30 scripts turned into 15 executed ideas. Kelon edited. Ash modeled. They launched. The first order didn’t come until the next day. The next one took a week. They kept pushing.

Eventually, they sold out. All 17.