I’m French, I live in Texas, and I’m going to open a bakery.
Broissant started as a joke I kept telling online about living between a Paris bakery and a Texas drive-thru. It became a label people actually wear, in twenty-seven countries. Now every order goes toward the part I could not stop thinking about: a real French bakery, here.
Eros Brousson · founderThe joke got out of hand. I’m not stopping it.
I moved to Texas with a French accent and strong opinions about bread, which is a difficult combination. I started posting the gap between the two countries — the bakery and the drive-thru, the terrace and the parking lot — and a lot of people turned out to live in that same gap.
They asked to wear it, so I printed it. Small runs, my own artwork, water-based ink, no warehouse full of leftovers. Broissant paid for itself from the first drop.
What I actually want is the bakery. Not a pop-up, not a collab: a room that smells right at 6am, baguette that cracks, croissants with layers, espresso that isn’t an apology. Every piece sold puts money toward that build, and the counter on this site says exactly where we are.
From a joke to a bakery
Nothing here was planned two years ahead. Each step happened because the last one worked — including this one.
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Before
A joke I kept telling
A French accent in Austin, a croissant in one hand, an iced coffee the size of my head in the other. I posted the distance between the two countries. People recognised themselves in it faster than I expected.
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The first design
Lady Liberty, holding a croissant
Not a product plan — the joke made literal. The Statue of Liberty with a croissant instead of a torch, printed big across the back, “An American Legacy” underneath. It is still the piece people buy first.
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4 July 2026
The first drop
Independence Day, on purpose. Three designs, two colours each, nothing held back for later. The first hoodies were gone before the week was out.
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Now
Eighteen pieces, twenty-seven countries
Tees, hoodies, caps, socks, a cup. Small runs, shipped tracked. No pallet of unsold stock, no season two of the same shirt.
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Next
A bakery, for real
America deserves better baguettes. Everything Broissant makes now goes toward opening the first Broissant bakery in the US — lease, oven room, flour, French hours. It is the most expensive croissant joke in history and I intend to finish it.
You’re not just buying a T-shirt.
Every order goes toward opening a real French bakery in America. Not a donation, not a pledge — the brand funds the build, and this is exactly where it stands today.
- 10% Bakery plan, real numbers, first meetings Next up
- 20% Location hunt starts — Texas first Locked
- 40% Design, ovens, cold room, equipment Locked
- 60% Build-out of the first shop Locked
- 80% Hiring and training the team Locked
- 100% Open the damn bakery Locked
Not a charity drive. The counter tracks Broissant sales revenue going into the bakery project.
“I’ve been making fun of American bread for two years. At some point you stop posting and go bake.”
Printed for you, not for a warehouse.
I would rather sell out than sit on a pallet of unsold shirts. Small runs keep the money moving toward the oven instead of into storage.
What I do not do
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No dead stock
A run is sized to sell through, not to sit in a box until the end of a season.
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No restock by default
A design that sells out usually stays gone. The next one is different.
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No plastic print
Water-based ink only. It will not crack or peel off the shirt.
What I do
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250 gsm cotton
400 on the hoodies — roughly 40% heavier than a standard brand tee. It hangs instead of clinging.
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Screen-printed in Austin
Water-based ink on the tees and hoodies, embroidery on the caps. Small runs, Austin, Texas.
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Tracked worldwide
$9 flat to twenty-seven countries, free over $70, tracking the moment it leaves.
The club, in the wild
Straight from the feed — the same pieces, on people who paid for them. I repost the ones that make me laugh.
