Badass Frankie — Hoodie (White/Black Collection)
Frankie doesn’t just cover your chest — she declares war from it. The Badass Frankie Hoodie turns everyday fleece into armor, fusing dark humor, alt streetwear, and cult saga storytelling. Sharp black-line artwork, sealed with the blood-red Die Jimmy Die signature, makes this more than a hoodie — it’s wearable vengeance, stitched with attitude and built for chaos.
Why you’ll wear it: because hoodies should do more than keep you warm. This one carries the saga — sparking conversations, cult nods, and the smirks of fellow Die Jimmy Die collectors. Slip it on, and you’re not just wearing streetwear… you’re pledging allegiance to Frankie’s cause.
- 50/50 cotton–poly fleece (warm, soft, durable)
- High-detail DTG print (crisp lines, no cracking, no fade)
- Unisex, relaxed fit (S–3XL)
- Artwork: “Frankie with the .45” — official DJD saga piece
- Colorway: White tee / Black line art / Red script
- Care: Cold wash, inside out. Air or low tumble dry.
What Fellow Fans Are Saying
“The Badass Frankie hoodie doesn’t just keep me warm — it keeps my enemies nervous. Heavy fleece, crisp print, and the blood-red signature scream dark humor streetwear. Honestly, it’s less hoodie, more cult uniform for Die Jimmy Die collectors.”
“Slipped on the Frankie graphic hoodie and my Uber driver immediately asked, ‘Team Frankie?! I'm Team Jimmy!’ The design is killer, the fit is perfect, and it nails that blend of alt streetwear fashion and saga storytelling. 10/10 — Frankie rides shotgun now.”
“Every time I wear the Badass Frankie hoodie, people either smirk or step aside. The fleece is soft, the print is bold, and the vibe is pure cult streetwear energy. It turned my wardrobe into an immortal love saga merch shrine. Cozy never looked this lethal.”
“Complete the
BADASS FRANKIE set — shop the full cosmic collection.”
Frankie’s Diary — Chapter: Straight Line, Steady Hand
Day 14.
So I traced a straight line from my eye to his bad decisions and let the weight of the steel do the rest. Breath in, breath out—no tremble, no mercy, no rush. He winked and smiled (of course he did). The gun explodes; Jimmy’s smirk shattered just before the bullet hit. The room smelled like the first kiss of a curse cracking.
I kept the bow tie — the last ribbon in his sight before the fall. The shot rang clean, but certainty is a ghost I can’t hold. Was this the end, or just another rehearsal of fate? If he rises tomorrow, so will I — eyes steady, vow unbroken. Die, Jimmy, Die. Patience is my sharpest weapon.
