Dready began as the alter ego of a shy Birmingham artist called Robert Sidlauskas. He grew into the face of 90s UK street culture — and he still has plenty to say.
Dready was never just a cartoon. He was how a quiet young Rastafarian in Thatcher’s Britain said what he believed — that peace beats pressure, that love outlasts hard times, that unity is louder than division, and that family is everyone who stands with you. Forty years on, every piece we make still carries that message.
— The Dready family
01
01Dready — Robert’s alter ego, born in the late 70s
01The artist
A quiet kid with a loud pencil
Robert Sidlauskas was born in Northampton to Jamaican and English parents. He spent much of his childhood in care before finding a foster family — and some stability — in Birmingham as a teenager.
Shy and softly spoken, he let his biro do the talking. In the late 70s he dreamt up Dready: an alter ego who could voice Robert’s beliefs, hopes and fears as a young Rasta growing up under Thatcher and the shadow of the Cold War.
Reggae, punk, the grind of unemployment and a deep faith in people all poured onto the page. Bob Marley shaped Dready’s look — and his mission to spread a worldwide positive vibe.
“
Peace, love, culture, and unity, but, most importantly, family.
Dionne Sidlauskas, Robert’s daughter, on what Dready meant to him — via Vice
02
02The crew, as drawn by the Dready family — from our fan-art wall
02The crew
From a sketchbook to the street
The many different people Robert met growing up became characters of their own — a whole crew drawn around Dready, plus a love interest called Jellybean.
Robert liked to hang out and draw at The Oasis, Birmingham’s alternative shopping hub and a magnet for creative kids. That’s where he met Christopher Carpenter, who had a small shop there. Christopher saw an urban Mickey Mouse in those drawings and proposed a clothing brand. Robert jumped at it — and drew to order. Whatever was needed, Dready could do it.
“
If I needed Dready on a mountain bike, he’d do it.
Christopher Carpenter, co-founder — via Vice
Meet the crew
DreadyThe man himself
Barley CornOne of the crew
GuruOne of the crew
Natty DreadOne of the crew
JellybeanDready’s love interest
03
03Still on the dancefloor — the Dready family today
03The movement
On every bomber, record bag and wall
Through the 90s Dready was everywhere — on bombers, record bags and hoodies, doodled in the margins of exercise books and sprayed onto walls. He rode the wave of unity running through the rave, jungle and drum & bass scenes, where everyone was welcome on the dancefloor.
Copycats followed, but they missed the point. Dready was always about a message. The brand crossed the Channel and became a favourite in France and Italy, before scaling down around the turn of the millennium as the high street changed.
“
There was a message.
Christopher Carpenter — via Vice
90sThe urban Mickey Mouse
3Countries: UK, France & Italy
04
04Robert’s drawings, back on cloth
04The return
Gone, never forgotten
Robert passed away in 2012, leaving behind thousands of drawings — comic strips, characters and snapshots of West Indian life in Britain, many never seen in public.
In 2015 Dready came back. Florence + the Machine guitarist and lifelong fan Rob Ackroyd joined as creative director and chose not to redesign Dready at all, but to celebrate the artist. Seven limited tees brought Robert’s unseen drawings to life, made in the UK. That autumn, South London’s DJ Oneman fronted the next drop.
Today the brand is run by Robert’s family alongside Christopher’s daughter, Victoria — still small, still made to order, still spreading the message.
“
Dready to me is a social outlet through clothing with humour and most importantly good design work that has a message.
Dready has always looked back to Jamaica, so it feels right to give something back. We’re proud partners of the Jamaica Skate Culture Foundation, founded by Rémy Walter of Paris Skate Culture.
The foundation develops skateboarding, BMX and surf across Jamaica — already active in Boston Bay, Bull Bay and Kingston. A percentage of our profits helps build more skateparks and skate schools, so young riders can find their talent and join the worldwide riding family.
