Fang Gang

fang gang

We were ten tins in and Timmi was getting anxious, “Johnny, we gotta find a model and we gotta do it soon, we’re not gonna be able to pick a babe from a bucket-a-crabs soon.”

We were at an art show but it was rapidly turning into car-park moshpit. There were girls, lots of them, some took our slurred proposal as a compliment, others were wary of that classic creeper’s line, “I’m a photographer, will you be my model?”

The tins flowed and the band went hardcore. Artworks were smashing to the ground, shirts were off and the groms were screaming, it was a good night.

We woke up dazed, confused and we had a photographer arriving within the hour. It’s best not to keep the man, Craig Harvey, waiting.

I dragged the furniture out onto the deck as Timmi hit the phones. In the end Elle saved the day, she stuck her head out of Nick’s room and suggested we call Sophie.

fang gang

fang gang

With miraculous ease the lounge room turned into a photo studio. Sophie had the perfect blend of grunge and sophistication; and the fridge was full of beer.

The Fang Gang clothing label is the brainchild of Timmi-Fresh, and this beer soaked tale of debauched disorganisation is a suitable introduction to his unique brand of bi’ness.

The gear is designed to be worn hard and fast. It’s all cut-off tees, bucket hats and prints that scream at you to get on board or get out of the way.

fang gang




fang gangFang_gang_05

We got the shots and we drank all the beer, check out the end result here.

…and buy some threads, Timmi gotta eat and tins ain’t cheap.


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