Can Gun Culture Help Streetwear Find Its Edge Again?

Qilo produces its signature sherpa fleeces in deep cut IYKYK camo patterns like “Blueberry Chocolate Chip” (used by Saudi border guards and joggers in 1970s Zaire) and Leopard, 650-fill goose down puffers in MultiCam, and pouches in Tiger Stripe that include a velcro panel to attach to a plate carrier. Nearly everything Qilo makes has some kind of military history or modern tactical origin point. And while none of the pieces are straight-down-the-line tactical (Stein says he “doesn’t really see” Qilo putting Velcro patches on sleeves, a hallmark of modern tactical clothing), the way Qilo markets itself sometimes blurs the line. The brand’s posts on Instagram often look like Call of Duty gameplay stills, with models decked out in full battle rattle, armed with suppressed rifles, and their faces sometimes blurred out. The posts that don’t look ripped from the battlefield, meanwhile, feel a lot like any other streetwear brand’s look book images—casual hangout photos with strobe-light flash and an abundance of pretty women—just with the addition of visible firearms.

Brandon Wood, a 32-year-old watch industry professional, is a longtime Qilo customer and big fan of the brand’s pieces in Russian KLMK camouflage. Wood first started buying Qilo around the time the brand began leaning into tactical designs, and he wears his Qilo joggers, shorts, and shirts both while shooting and in his everyday life. “I find them practical for the range and I don’t really care if they get dirty,” he says. “It feels like you’re just wearing them for what they’re meant to do.”

Currently, Wood is waiting on a new fleece from Qilo’s recent collaboration with the Instagram creator Whitephosphor, who mixes e-girl aesthetics with firearms (the name is a play on white phosphorous, a chemical used in smoke, illumination, and incendiary munitions). Qilo’s collab with Whitephosphor sold out of 782 sherpa fleeces in a day.

Stein describes his target customers as men who “grew up playing Call of Duty. They grew up listening to Wu-Tang Clan. They were into hip-hop, they were into punk, they were into skate. Many of them collected Supreme or were familiar with brands like Stüssy or The Hundreds.” Some of those hypebeast boys grew up and got into midcentury design and matcha; others, evidently, grew up and got into rifles and plate carriers.

Part of the brand’s success was thanks to social media communities that had begun to spring up in the tactical and 2A spaces—Instagram mood board accounts like Violent Collective, which post historical and contemporary military content, as well as YouTubers such as Micah Mayfield, who blend tactical shooting skills with entertainment. Qilo started being tagged in so many of their new customers’ photos, usually alongside rifles and body armor, that Stein was worried that Urban Outfitters and other fashion stockists might get spooked. That was one reason why he created the Qilo Tactical page, which is now the main account for the brand, with over 93,000 followers.