About Cracked Glass
Cracked Glass isn’t just an apparel brand—it’s a movement born out of lived experience.
I started Cracked Glass as a way to represent my own battles with mental illness—chronic depression, anxiety, PTSD, and the scars left by addiction and survival. But it’s not just my story. It’s for my kids. For my family. For the people I’ve lost and the ones I still fight for.
Our cracks are often invisible to the world, but they’re heavy. When we give in to them, the shatter spreads to the people we love. Cracked Glass is about wearing those fractures out loud—turning pain into solidarity, scars into symbols, and silence into connection.
This isn’t about fashion. It’s about resilience. It’s about saying: Fractured. Not Finished.
Our Mission
The Cracked Glass Movement exists to turn silence into solidarity.
We wear our fractures openly—not as marks of weakness, but as proof of survival. Every crack tells a story. Every scar is a reminder that even when life shatters us, we still hold together.
Our mission is simple: to create a community where no one feels alone in their brokenness. To inspire people to embrace their cracks, to cope, to connect, and to transform pain into resilience.
The Cracked Glass Logo
The logo is a segmented window pane, broken into sections with fractures running through them. Each of the four main segments represents the common battles people face:
Depression
Anxiety
PTSD
Substance Abuse
The cracks that splinter across them symbolize how these struggles don’t stay neatly contained—they bleed into each other, fragmenting the mind and the life around them.
Layered across the pane are scratches, the kind that look like words scribbled out in a journal. They’re not random—they’re intentional. They represent what you want them to represent. Maybe they’re words you couldn’t say out loud. Maybe they’re memories you tried to delete. Maybe they’re thoughts you buried where only you know what they meant. They’re still there, even if no one else sees them.
The logo is both public and private. It’s visible solidarity, but it also honors the invisible battles—the fractures and erased words we carry in silence.