When influencers launch “brands,” the question isn’t just about clothes or products, it’s about intent.
Are these actual fashion ventures, or glorified merch drops dressed up as labels?
The recent launch of Abo Kamar’s clothing line, You Make Me Sick, stirred the debate, showing how fragile the line is between influence and entrepreneurship.
The Backlash
Abo Kamar built his online persona on relatability and poking fun at elitist, pretentious behavior.
But when his brand dropped tank tops with cheeky slogans like “I cried at work today” or “ur dad likes my stories” for over EGP 1,000+, followers weren’t laughing.
Some saw it as a direct contradiction—how can someone who calls out inflated trends suddenly sell what looks like a basic tank top for luxury prices?
Social Media is Split into Two
Critics called it delusional and tone-deaf, accusing him of becoming the very thing he mocked.
Others defended him, pointing out that limited runs, high-quality fabrics, and niche marketing strategies naturally come with higher price tags.
Merch vs. Brand: Sampling from Others Who Got It Right
The deeper issue here is intent. Many influencer “brands” are essentially merch; items that capitalize on fandom, often regardless of design innovation.
That’s not always a bad thing. Fans buy to support, not necessarily for fashion credibility. But when influencers market merch as if it’s an original, groundbreaking label, the audience feels duped.
A strong counterexample is Huda Kattan with Huda Beauty. She started on YouTube doing makeup tutorials, building an audience by listening to their needs.
When she launched her brand, it wasn’t just about her name; it was about creating products that solved problems her audience faced.
From false lashes that actually fit Middle Eastern eye shapes to foundations with inclusive shade ranges, Huda Beauty became luxury yet accessible and catered to demands often ignored by the traditional industry.
That’s the difference between merch and a real brand.
The Price Question
Before we say anything, we want to make it clear that we haven’t seen the products ourselves, and we’re giving him the benefit of the doubt and assuming it’s a premium quality tank top as the brand claims.
If the material and finish are premium, then the price point isn’t outrageous when compared to international niche labels.
The problem is perception.
To many, the items look like simple tank tops with a slogan slapped on—something you could find in fast fashion stores for a fraction of the price. And perception often matters more than actual cost breakdowns.
A Case of Misalignment?
Tying a personal brand to a product line is risky. It can solidify an influencer’s cultural impact, but it can also alienate the very followers who made them popular.
In Abo Kamar’s case, the backlash shows how quickly relatability can flip into accusations of hypocrisy.
Still, controversy isn’t always bad for business.
Whether people love or hate the collection, they’re talking about it, and in the influencer economy, conversation is currency.
Smart Play or Self-Sabotage? You Decide
Influencer brands will always sit between merch and fashion, but what makes or breaks them is honesty.
If followers feel they’re paying for exclusivity, creativity, or quality, they’ll accept it. If it feels like a cash grab, backlash is inevitable.
Abo Kamar’s brand might not be a failure; it’s just a reminder that relatability and luxury don’t always mix easily. And maybe that’s the real slogan worth printing. That said, Abo Kamar’s content will always remain in our favorites list!
