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Before the festival ideas, before the live music series, before the community partnerships and wellness advocacy, there was the first drop. Winter 2020. The moment we stopped treating Miva Collective like a side concept and decided to build something that could actually stand for something.

People had been asking for merch for years, friends, DJs we worked with, artists we were producing for, people who saw the early prototypes floating around in 2016 and 2017. But back then, the brand had no anchor.

It took five years, a pandemic, a lot of personal uncertainty, and a growing awareness of what we wanted to say through clothing before the first collection finally made sense.

WInter 2020 was the beginning of Miva Collective as an actual brand.

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Our first drop wasn’t loud on purpose, but it wasn’t passive either. It was intentional, personal, and built around two things:
our logo, our name and our message.

The collection included:

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Headwear

• Baseball caps with the embroidered logo
• Seven colorways: because even back then we wanted people to feel like they had a choice in how they supported

Tops

• Baseball tees with the “Music Speaks Volumes” back print + left chest logo
• Tie-dye tees with the same layout, one of the unexpected crowd favorites

Hoodies (3 concepts)

1. Minimal embroidered left-chest logo
2. Screenprinted “Miva Collective” center front
   • handcrafted rope drawstrings
   • left sleeve embroidery
3. Varsity-style stitched MIVA letters
   • left sleeve logo embroidery

Crewnecks (3 concepts)

1. Teal only: left chest logo embroidery (cleanest piece in the drop)
2. Combo-color “Miva” front print + sleeve embroidery
3. Women’s fuzzy-pink varsity patch crewneck
   • this one sold out every time

And every piece came with affirmation tags:
Keep Going.
Love Yourself.
One Step at a Time.
Love yourself.

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Just a small reminder you read when you’re not feeling your best, and it hits in a different way.

Where the Purpose Came In

By winter 2020, the identity of the brand was forming, even if we didn’t fully understand it yet.

We were coming out of COVID isolation.
People our age were in that post-college, mid-twenties limbo.
Everything felt uncertain.
Mental health conversations were rising, but not everyone knew how to talk about it.

Around this time, we were also recovering from post-concussion syndrome, stepping away from DJing and producing for the first time in years, wondering what balance looked like, and watching peers drift into burnout cycles we recognized in ourselves.

The brand could’ve just been about music.
But it needed to be about wellness too.
Not in a forced, “self-care aesthetic” kind of way, but in a real, lived-experience way.

That’s why the affirmations mattered.
That’s why “Music Speaks Volumes” felt right.
It was the only slogan that matched who we were becoming.

The Pop-Out Era

The drop didn’t take off online, and honestly, part of that was on us. Our checkout system literally didn’t work for a year. We didn’t know until people kept telling us they “couldn’t check out.” We laughed it off at the time, but it was the reality of a young brand learning as it grew.

But in person?
Different story.

Every pop-up we did, the teal crewnecks, the tie-dye tees, and especially the women’s fuzzy varsity piece, sold out fast. People connected to the story, shared their story, related to our mission, the idea of a brand that wasn’t just selling clothes but starting conversations.

Our booths were always full.
People stayed to talk.
They participated in giveaways.
They listened to what the brand was trying to become.

In person, people felt the intention.

Online didn’t carry the energy yet, not because the clothes weren’t strong, but because we were still building community.

Shoots

We didn’t have a budget for a campaign.
We didn’t have a production team.
We barely had a plan.

We had friends.
A camera.
And locations that made sense to the story.

One shoot happened in LA, portable farmer’s market vibes, local energy, and a random “ice cream truck” that wasn’t an ice cream truck at all but a rolling grocery store run by a guy from the neighborhood. The photos felt raw, unfiltered, West Coast.

The second shoot was in Downtown Suisun City and the record store that, ironically, would later become the home of our “Music Speaks Volumes” live series. At the time, it was just a place we loved, so we asked if we could shoot there.

Those locations became part of the brand’s early DNA, local, familiar, a little improvised, but authentic.

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Winter 2020 wasn’t our biggest collection.
It wasn’t a perfect rollout.
But it was the moment the brand stepped into itself.

It represented:

• music culture
• wellness advocacy
• early creative identity
• vulnerability
• the first time people connected to the brand in person
• the shift from “merch idea” to “movement”

Not everyone knows that this era was financially difficult.
We were selling out in person but still struggling to reinvest.
Inventory was uneven.
Sizing was off.
Production wasn’t consistent.
But the purpose held the whole thing together.

And now, looking back, it’s clear:
Winter 2020 is where the real Miva Collective began

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