Fake Gods
Streetwear’s Favorite Football Club (That’s Not a Football Club)
It’s last semester, I’m studying abroad and taking a quick trip to Madrid. By pure luck, I happen to be there on Black Friday — the one day a year when Spain’s hottest streetwear stores actually go on sale. I wasn’t even hunting for deals; I was just wandering the streets of a city I barely knew. Then I turn a corner and boom — gold. Calle Fuencarral. Lines snaking down the block. People running from store to store. It’s loud, it’s frantic, it’s electric. Four hours fly by as I weave through packed shops and wait in lines that feel like nightclub queues. Every store has something cool, but the only thing I walk out with? A jacket from Fake Gods.
But the more I’ve looked at that jacket in the months since, the more I find myself asking:
What does Fake Gods mean? Am I suddenly promoting hatred towards religion??
Well, despite what the name Fake Gods might suggest, there’s no grand message here. Co-founder Mario Núñez admitted it was simply the best of 30 names on a list. It was catchy, unregistered, and looked good in a graphic. Done.
And honestly, that’s fine. Not every brand needs a manifesto, and you don’t need a philosophy degree to get people’s attention. But when the name screams rebellion and the designs look like they’re trying to say something, it’s kind of disappointing to realize there’s no real story behind it. It’s like when you ask someone about their cool tattoo expecting to hear a whole backstory and you just hear “I picked it out of the tattoo artist’s popular sheet.” Sometimes they try to put some meaning into collections, but it doesn’t feel like thoughtful storytelling. It feels like me in improv class, grasping at anything to make a scene land.
So how did Fake Gods get so popular?
A Brand That Won the Lottery
Mario and Eric started Fake Gods at 19, with no investors - just a love of football, some oversized tees, and a whole lot of Instagram followers. Their first drop? Sold out in 30 minutes. From there, things snowballed: a flagship store in Madrid, a collab with legacy brand Nocilla, celebrities wearing their pieces, and hundreds of thousands of followers online.
They fast-tracked their way to success - which is exciting, but risky. It’s like winning the lottery. You skip the slow grind, but also the lessons that come with it. Most lottery winners end up broke because they reach the finish line without running the race. That’s the worry here. Fake Gods didn’t spend years slowly building a community or tightening their brand voice. They got the audience before they figured out what to say to them.
And now, the cracks are starting to show. Fake Gods refuses to commit to a single aesthetic. Every collection feels like a total reset - one month it’s grungy dystopia, the next it’s pastel nostalgia. They’re constantly chasing what’s hot, riding the same wave as other hype streetwear brands instead of carving out their own lane. That kind of reinvention keeps things exciting, sure. But take the logo off, and most people wouldn’t be able to tell who made the piece. That’s a problem.
When you think of legacy brands that have been killing streetwear for eons - Supreme, Stüssy, Carhartt WIP - they have a history, a culture, a story to fall back on when trends shift. Supreme, for example, spent years grinding in the New York skate scene before the hype ever hit; by the time the world caught on, they already knew exactly who they were. Right now, Fake Gods is riding pure hype, but hype fades. And real brand power comes not from the spark, but from what you build when the fire starts to die.
Who’s Fake Gods Up Against?
The Fuencarral street scene is crowded with brands chasing Gen Z attention - Nude Project, Scuffers, Eme Studios, Cold Culture - to name a few. They all ride trend waves, but the strongest of the bunch, Nude Project, stands out by doing it with intent. Nude has a sharper artistic message, a consistent tone, and signature pieces (like their jeans) that fans return to again and again. Fake Gods might be louder, flashier, and cooler in the moment, but it’s also messier. If Nude Projects is the thoughtful creative, Fake Gods is the showman - unpredictable, chaotic, and still figuring out what it actually stands for.
So.. What can Fake Gods do now?
If I were in Fake Gods’ shoes, this would be the moment to take a step back and invest in what the brand really stands for.
1. Do the Brand Soul-Searching
At some point, every brand needs to ask: Why do we exist? Fake Gods started as a cool name and a sold-out drop. But that was three years ago. Now’s the time to look inward and connect the dots — What inspired the name? What values have emerged since? What has the journey taught the founders, and how does that translate into a worldview fans can connect to?
This isn’t about inventing a fake backstory. It’s about telling the truth, thoughtfully. A brand with a name like Fake Gods is already halfway there. There’s an opportunity to reframe it:
In today’s world, we worship all the wrong things: clout, followers, money, fame, trends. Influencer culture, hustle culture - it’s a constant chase for validation from systems that ultimately don’t care about us. These are the “Fake Gods” — the idols we’re told to chase, but that leave us feeling empty.
As a brand we’ve been at the forefront of followers and fast money. We’ve been left empty and seeking something deeper. We’ve come to realize Fake Gods is a rejection of false idols — a call to live for what actually matters. It’s not about flexing the loudest, it’s about choosing what’s real, what’s yours, what’s worth remembering.
In a world built around faking it, Fake Gods is about remembering what’s real.
Anyways, that’s just my take on how they could spin their history and find new meaning. Once they do some soul searching and find meaning, they should:
2. Build Out the Identity, Not Just the Aesthetic
Right now, the brand’s aesthetic changes constantly. That keeps things fresh, but it also blurs identity. The solution? Introduce a line of core staples — pieces that feel distinctively “Fake Gods” even if the seasonal collections evolve. Whether it’s a signature hoodie cut, a recurring graphic motif, or a reinterpretation of a football jersey, Fake Gods needs tangible touchpoints fans can recognize — and return to.
3. Fix the Brand Touchpoints
Some basics are being missed. The website has no real About page. The Instagram bio says nothing. There’s a fine line between mystery and emptiness, and right now, the brand leans too far into the latter. A one-sentence bio won’t kill the mystique — but it will give new fans something to hold onto. Even a short brand video or a landing page about the brand’s evolution would go a long way in building emotional connection.
Rebranding doesn’t mean abandoning what made Fake Gods successful. It means evolving from a hype brand into a cultural force. The audience is already listening. Now it’s time to say something that sticks
Recapping
I still look at my Fake Gods jacket and smile, not because of the brand, but because of the memories I made that night in Madrid. The design still holds up. But now, that’s all it is to me: a souvenir. After digging deeper and becoming a more conscious consumer, I see the brand for what it is, or I guess what it isn’t. And while I won’t be rushing to buy from Fake Gods again anytime soon, who knows? If they read this, do some soul searching, I’d be more than happy to make room in my closet.