Wear who you are. Support who they'll become.
I counted my caps once. Fourteen. Almost all of them fifty, sixty bucks. For what? A logo from a brand that poured that money into ads — not into anything that matters.
I'm gay, and I grew up with a community that had my back. In New York, a cap is part of the uniform: festival, brunch, Pride, a night out. We buy them. A lot of them. And one day I asked myself — what if the money we're already spending went somewhere?
Not a guilt-trip donation buried at the bottom of a page. Same price, same cap you'd have bought anyway. Except part of it goes to queer kids kicked out by their own families — the ones who didn't get the community I did.
A cap is a quiet flag. You already wear who you are on your head. Might as well have it say something true.
The model
For every cap sold, a fixed share of the price goes to a partner association that houses and supports LGBTQ+ young people experiencing homelessness — with a written agreement and transparent reporting.
Built to support
One message, strong type, bold color. Made to be seen, built to support. That's BRIM.