On copy-paste aesthetics, cultural amnesia, and why brands need to do more than just look like the culture.
There’s a difference between honoring the culture and mining it for moodboards.
And far too many brands today are doing the latter—churning out gear that borrows the surface symbols of Chicano identity while leaving the struggle, the politics, and the people behind.
You’ve seen it:
Old English lettering slapped across a tee.
Lowrider outlines stitched on caps.
Sepia-filtered graphics of flannels and slicked-back hair.
All aesthetic, no context.
And sure, it looks familiar—but only in the way a photocopy looks like a portrait. Blurry. Flattened. Stripped of soul.
Before It Was a Trend, It Was a Statement
To understand why this matters, we have to go back—to the 1960s, when Chicano fashion wasn’t about trend cycles. It was about resistance.
The Chicano Movement (El Movimiento) wasn’t a branding opportunity. It was a reclamation of dignity in a country that tried to erase it. Clothing became a language of rebellion:
• Pendleton flannels, buttoned at the top, worn loose—asserted pride in working-class Mexican-American identity.
• Creased khakis, Stacy Adams shoes, and clean fades weren’t just style—they were a refusal to look “less than” in a society that expected it.
• Brown Berets, inspired by the Black Panthers, wore military uniforms and berets as a visual declaration of self-defense and resistance.
• Chicana women, in sharp liner and rebozos, made their presence unapologetically visible in both the movement and the everyday.
Every outfit had meaning. Every silhouette carried weight. This was style forged from survival.
The Aesthetic Industrial Complex
Now? That meaning is getting lost.
Today’s market is flooded with brands who regurgitate motifs without honoring the message:
• Recycled Old English on $80 hoodies.
• “La Raza” printed with no mention of actual raza issues.
• Lowrider illustrations sold as trendy visuals instead of cultural testimony.
It’s all surface, no substance.
These are brands that:
• Use Chicano aesthetics but say nothing about housing displacement, border violence, or racial profiling.
• Feature icons of protest but stay silent on everything from labor exploitation to police brutality.
• Profit from nostalgia but fail to fund or feature the communities they’re mimicking.
This is cultural siphoning—the draining of symbolism from its roots until it’s easy to wear, easy to sell, and easy to forget.
We Need Brands With Backbone
If you’re going to use the look, carry the legacy.
Some reminders:
• Old English is not neutral. That font holds decades of criminalization, coded surveillance, and rebellion.
• A flannel is not just a shirt. It’s tied to resistance, to identity, to histories of being targeted while dressed in your own skin.
• Lowriders aren’t just cool—they’re political. They came from community, not car shows. They were born out of creativity in the face of exclusion.
And most of all:
• You can’t represent the culture without representing its pain, its victories, and its ongoing fight.
We Remember
We remember the East L.A. Walkouts of 1968.
We remember the Pachucas and Pachucos who dressed defiantly and got arrested for it.
We remember that these looks were once grounds for suspicion, not celebration.
We remember that style was always a declaration—not an accessory.
So What Now?
We’re not asking for brands to stop referencing Chicano culture.
We’re asking them to start understanding it.
We want:
• Brands that educate, not just decorate.
• Campaigns that contextualize, not just capitalize.
• Designers who collaborate, not just copy.
If you’re going to say “For the culture,” you better mean more than the moodboard.
Because if your brand can’t answer:
“Why are you using Chicano symbols?”
—then you’re not celebrating the culture. You’re selling it short.
Style came from struggle.
And if you’re only here for the style, you’re helping erase the struggle.