Up The Antichrist is a unique universe that gels together different mediums including fashion design, photography, music and video as well as installation, vocal and performance art. This coalescence of components creates a single, unified vision with a lush and multilayered aesthetic concept. At its nexus is an ever-evolving, highly unique jacket line. Each jacket is painstakingly hand-crafted: one-of-a-kind creations each imbued, by artist Mike Tessier along with painter/collaborator Robert Pietrantonio, with its own voice and power. Once donned, the revelation is galvanizing and instantaneous.

The aim of UTAC is to form meaningful connections with its clientele and audience through relatable, albeit dark and unusual content, a compelling audiovisual narrative and an engrossing body of work. The artist’s journey is one of adversity, transformation and re-emergence. With a deep affection for 1980’s subculture aesthetics and childhood nostalgia, Tessier’s consolidation of elements make UTAC a definitively niche, progressive, visionary world-building enterprise.

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He went to school with one shoe on the other day. All he wanted to do was play. Hopscotch, Red Rover, ashes ashes we all fall down, that kinda thing but they made him do his school work instead. Not that things would have gone well for him anyway, see, he was shy and kept to himself a lot and was not often included in group activities and it further quashed his popularity very much that he told other kids they were going to hell for playing with G.I. Joes and Cabbage Patch dolls. Mikey Doodle Dandy, sweet as sugar candy.

His Daddy said he had an unresolved Oedipus complex, a term of endearment for his son. Well, Daddy hung out in malls in a polka-dotted suit and rainbow wig and passed out pamphlets that prophesied the coming of Christ and from a crudely painted cardboard box performed puppet shows prognosticating punishment in purgatory for progeny who didn't pray. "Do you wear the mark of The Beast?"

His mother taught him a version of the birds and the bees that violated nature, a twisted, rotten mockery. And with a prayer in his heart he turned to Lucifer for aid. "Yea though I walk in the shadow of the clown, I pledge fealty to the lurker within for thou art Lord"

Forged in fallopian fetor, the blade of the malbegotten, unsheathed, penetrates the membrane between hells and striking back at god, in whose name the child was downtrodden and shamed, the newfangled terror rips open portals unleashing alien atrocities onto a slumbering world. Transmuting his inner demons into dancing marionettes, the Benighted Reprobate claims his mantle. "Welcome to my necrosphere."