Je suis un rockstar. It doesn’t whisper. It struts in, guitar slung low, volume up, ego unapologetically intact. Je Suis un Rockstar is not just a slogan—it’s a lifestyle, a stage presence, a wink across a crowded room that says, “Yes, the lead singer just walked in, and it’s me.” This shirt hums with energy, but not the clean-cut, gym-toned kind. No—this is sweat-soaked stage light energy, late-night vinyl spinning while the neighbours complain, champagne popped at the wrong hour, eyeliner smudged from yesterday’s triumphs. Inspired by Bill Wyman’s cheeky anthem from the late ’70s, it leans into the fantasy with irony so dry it could headline Coachella itself.
This is Poeha’s encore to normalcy. We’re not glorifying excess; we’re parodying the pantomime while secretly indulging in its joy. The record-headed figure on the shirt is part surrealism, part self-aware cool, spinning on the turntable of life like it’s always the final track. This design doesn’t sell fame. It sells the guts to believe, even for a second, that you’re worth a stadium’s attention just for making your morning coffee. It says you get the joke—and you still want the spotlight. Because let’s be honest: we all want to feel like we’re just one killer riff away from immortality.
So what does it really mean to live like a rockstar? It doesn’t require a private jet or an amp that goes to 11. It starts with the audacity to turn everyday life into a stage. Walking into your local supermarket like you’re entering Wembley. Tossing a grin at the barista as if you’ve just come off tour. Wearing sunglasses indoors not because it’s bright, but because you’re brighter. This isn’t arrogance—it’s atmosphere. And Je Suis un Rockstar embodies that curated chaos, that deliberate dishevelment, that wink of “I woke up like this… in Ibiza.”
Poeha revels in this paradox: the self-aware poser, the stylish anti-hero, the rebel with a carefully packed overnight bag. We don’t buy into the myth—we dance with it. This shirt both mocks and honours the trope. Yes, you’re parodying the ego, but let’s not pretend you don’t secretly love the idea of your life having a soundtrack. Maybe it’s The Rolling Stones. Maybe it’s Bowie. Or maybe it’s that one French electro track you play to feel expensive. The point is, you’re the main character. And your costume? This shirt.
There’s a fine line between confidence and delusion—and rockstars sprint down that line in snakeskin boots. But here’s the thing: the crowd doesn’t care how you got on stage. They care how you own it once you’re there. That’s the magic of Je Suis un Rockstar. It doesn’t wait for permission. It doesn’t seek validation. It simply enters the room like the world’s been holding its breath. Why? Because it can. And so can you. Whether you’re commanding a boardroom or navigating your work kitchen’s passive-aggressive politics, you’re still the show.
The design assumes attention rather than begging for it. It doesn’t perform—it exists. With effortless authority. With unapologetic vibe. This is not a shirt that matches your shoes. It matches your mood when you refuse to shrink. This is charisma, printed in black and white. There’s a quiet rebellion in claiming your presence in a world that’s constantly trying to airbrush it out. That’s the real headliner energy. You don’t need backup dancers when you’ve got that kind of print.
Too much of modern fashion feels like hold music—inoffensive, forgettable, background noise. Poeha, on the other hand, is a curated playlist of protest, punchlines, and pointed statements. Our designs don’t play it safe—they play it loud. And Je Suis un Rockstar is cranked permanently to eleven. It’s not here to ask if it’s cool. It’s here to define what cool looks like when it’s not trying too hard. Fashion isn’t supposed to whisper through beige linen blends. It’s supposed to talk back.
And let’s be honest, isn’t it refreshing to wear something that doesn’t beg to be taken seriously? That understands its own ridiculousness, and wears it anyway? That’s Poeha. We make clothing for thinkers, smirkers, rebels in clean sneakers. Je Suis un Rockstar isn’t about being edgy—it’s about being alive. Being aware. Smiling knowingly at the absurdity of dressing up just to be seen. It’s a middle finger wrapped in soft cotton. Not angry, just amused. Not bitter, just better dressed.
In the age of curated content and influencers who whisper every word like it’s a perfume ad, Poeha reminds you: it’s okay to be loud. It’s okay to have fun. It’s okay to live like life isn’t just a rehearsal. Je Suis un Rockstar is your permission slip to take up space—not arrogantly, but playfully. It’s for anyone who’s ever danced in front of the mirror, sung too loudly in the car, or introduced themselves with an imaginary mic drop. Because why the hell not?
We’re not in the business of making basics. We’re here to stir things up—gently but deliberately. This shirt is for those who want their wardrobe to have a little more wit, a little more rebellion, and a whole lot more personality. It’s not just a nod to rock ’n’ roll, it’s a shout across the cultural void: Yes, I know the world’s a bit ridiculous, and I plan to enjoy it anyway. You don’t need a record deal to wear this kind of energy. You just need the courage to look in the mirror and say, without blinking: Je suis un rockstar. And mean it.
