Neo Blue did not begin with fashion.
It began with a man trying to live.
Before Neo Blue was ever a name, our father was simply doing whatever work was available to survive. His life didn’t follow a straight line, and it wasn’t guided by passion or prestige. He worked because he had to. He adapted because there was no other choice.
Over the years, he has been a delivery boy, a server, a worker in manufacturing centers, and an office employee during the early days of computers — when large, heavy monitors filled desks and few people knew how to use them. Before settling in Los Angeles, he sold fruit and rice on the streets of Paraguay, standing outside for hours at a time, earning just enough to get through the day.
When he eventually arrived in LA, he didn’t arrive with a plan or a dream of starting a fashion brand. He arrived with the same mindset he always carried: I can do it.
He took whatever work he could find, which eventually led him to the LA Fashion District. Not the polished retail version people imagine today, but the wholesale world—physical, repetitive, and demanding. Days were spent packing hundreds of garments at a time. Weeks revolved around swap meets, where everything you had was laid out in the hope that enough of it would sell.
It was labor-heavy work. There was little glamour in it. But he stayed.
After years of working as a helper, learning quietly from the sidelines, he managed to save just enough to try something of his own. There was no grand opening moment. No announcement. Just a decision to take a risk and see if he could build something — anything — that would last.
If you met him, you would never guess he worked in fashion. Dirty shirts. Everyday blue jeans. A face that looked like any other dad you might pass on the street. But behind that exterior was someone obsessively teaching himself how clothes are made. How patterns give garments structure. How fabrics behave differently once washed. How color transforms depending on process, timing, and repetition.
Much of Neo Blue was built through trial and error. A lot of it looked like failure at the time. Our mom scolded him countless times for wasting time and money. And yet, he kept going. Not because he was certain it would work, but because stopping wasn’t an option.
The first real turning point came during the rise of skinny jeans.
At the time, skinny jeans hadn’t fully entered men’s fashion in the U.S. yet. Men hesitated. The look felt risky. But our dad paid attention to what younger people were wearing — and to what was happening outside the U.S.
As kids, we were watching K-pop idols style skinny jeans confidently and creatively. Groups like SNSD wearing bright, colorful skinnies in music videos (yes, those colors — red, purple, turquoise, everything). It wasn’t just fashion, it was attitude. And even though it was a girl group, our dad didn’t see that as a limitation. To him, color didn’t belong to one gender. Style didn’t need permission.
So he tried and it almost ended the business—inventory piled up, buyers hesitated, bankruptcy felt close.
Then, quietly, something shifted. One customer who had taken a small batch came back for more. Then another. Then another. As the trend spread, demand grew faster than the operation could keep up with.
What set Neo Blue apart wasn’t marketing or size. It was conviction.
Our dad never compromised on quality, even when it would’ve been easier. And he wasn’t afraid of expression. Skinny jeans came in bright red, green, yellow, purple, turquoise — colors most brands avoided. To him, fashion wasn’t about rules. If it made you feel good, it belonged.
Those became our best years.
Neo Blue stopped being just another wholesale brand on Santee Street. It became the place for skinny jeans. Over time, customers came back not just with orders, but with stories. Retailers told us they grew up wearing our jeans. One customer came in with his son after his son found us on TikTok — shocked and amused that a brand he wore when he was young was now “cool enough” for the next generation.
But like any business, there were ups and downs.
As our dad aged and the industry shifted toward digital platforms, things slowed. While his children pursued their own paths, he continued carrying the business forward largely alone. There was a moment when he considered letting Neo Blue go.
Our brother stepped in first. Not because it was easy, but because walking away didn’t feel right. His personality — open, talkative, genuine — naturally connected with younger customers. Designers, creators, and first-time brand owners started stopping by, many building brands through Instagram, influencers, and direct-to-consumer platforms.
As we became more involved, we started to understand the full weight of what our dad had carried alone — sourcing fabrics, developing patterns, coordinating production, managing volume. Growing up, there were moments when I felt embarrassed that our parents weren’t lawyers or doctors like others bragged about.
With time, that feeling disappeared. Every profession carries its own complexity and dignity. You can’t ask a doctor to suddenly produce 500 pairs of jeans in three weeks — just like a business owner can’t perform surgery. Each leaves a mark on society in their own way.
Today, the baton is being passed — slowly, imperfectly, and with humility. Just as skinny jeans once defined Neo Blue, the baggy line opened a new chapter. Progress today is quieter and harder-earned, but each step forward feels meaningful.
Our dad will likely never fully let go. Neo Blue is his life’s work. And we’re still learning. But carrying this brand forward feels like a way of honoring him — and honoring the customers who remembered us, as well as the new ones who decided to give us a try.
We want to take a moment to say thank you.
To our father — for building something from nothing, for showing us perseverance, and for always saying “very easy,” even when life wasn’t.
To our customers — wholesale and retail, past and present — every order notification, every return visit, every social media mention mattered more than you know. Small businesses survive because people care.
We don’t know how big Neo Blue will become. We don’t know if we’ll ever recreate the boom our dad once achieved. But we do know this — we won’t stop trying.
As our dad always says, no matter how hard things get: “Very easy.”
And so we keep going.