Our Story

Born Angry.
Built With Purpose.

How a Google Doc became a movement brand.

Rebels & Rights started the way a lot of things start these days: with a group text, a shared Google Doc, and a lot of feelings about the state of the world.

It was 2022. Rights that generations of activists had fought for were being dismantled, one court decision at a time. The founders — a designer, a writer, and someone who is very good at spreadsheets — found themselves at a kitchen table, asking the same question: what do we actually do about this?

They'd donated. They'd marched. They'd made calls, written letters, posted, argued. And they wanted to do something that lasted longer than a news cycle. Something that kept the conversation alive in ordinary spaces — the office, the school hallway, the farmers market.

The answer, weirdly, was t-shirts.

The First Design

The first Rebels & Rights design was "When Tyranny Becomes Law, Rebellion Becomes Duty" — set in clean, modern type on a faded black tee. It wasn't subtle. It wasn't meant to be.

They made 50. They sold out in a weekend, mostly to friends and strangers on Instagram who saw someone wearing one at a protest and asked where to get it. No ads. No algorithm. Just a message people needed to wear.

That's when they knew they had something.

The 10% Commitment

From day one, the mission was clear: this isn't just a clothing brand. It's a fundraising mechanism disguised as fashion.

Ten percent of every order goes directly to organizations doing the hard work. We mean that literally — not 10% of profits after expenses, not some percentage of the company's annual charitable giving. Ten percent of every order total, every time.

We rotate recipients each quarter based on where the need is greatest: reproductive rights orgs, voting protection groups, trans-led mutual aid, climate justice funds, immigration legal defense. You can see where your money is going on our Causes page.

The Design Philosophy

We care deeply about the words. Every design starts with a phrase — something that encapsulates a feeling, a fight, a refusal to be quiet. Then we obsess over the typography until it's exactly right.

We're not trying to make protest look like a meme. We're trying to make it look like it deserves to be taken seriously — because it does.

Good design in service of good values. That's the whole thing.