fakemink Is The New Prince of Digital Nostalgia

fakemink is on everyone’s lips, and he is here to stay. Whilst the 20-year-old rapper from London has been quietly building a following in the underground over the past year, recent months have propelled him into wider view: a viral show at London’s All Stars Boxing Club, a NYC set with Nettspend, a guest appearance with Drake at Wireless Festival, social media nods from Frank Ocean, and a feature in The Face photographed by Hedi Slimane mark him as one of the most talked-about new voices in music today. With 1.8 million Spotify listeners, he is clearly starting to reach the mainstream.

A defining part of fakemink’s appeal is an online persona that mimics early social media: blurry Valencia-filtered photos and throwback memes thread through both his Instagram and album covers. For his generation, raised in an always-on digital world, this nostalgia is not just about longing for the past. It is a way of imagining and reclaiming the quirks and apparent imperfections of the early internet.

Characterised by the chaos of 2010s meme culture and early Instagram feeds, fakemink’s aesthetic taps into a wider revival in the underground scene of artists using nostalgic digital imagery to echo their raw, SoundCloud-driven sound. Take, for example, hip-hop collective Drain Gang members like ecco2k, Thaiboy Digital, and Bladee who have been championing this style for years. What is striking is that these visuals are now being shaped by new artists who were not necessarily online during the era they reference, raising questions about how past digital identities are repurposed today.

fakemink himself told The Face that “2025 is the age of looking back. Nostalgia.” His statement captures the essence of his aesthetic: album visuals, outfits, and sound all blend past and present. It ties neatly to how he has described his music: as “luxury and dirty” where “the mink is the luxury part; the fake is the dirty.” This clash of opposites forms a blueprint for his style, mixing polish with grit, and playing with contradiction until it becomes its own distinct visual language.

What makes fakemink fascinating is not just that he leans into digital nostalgia, but how he reshapes it. It is an intentional blend of memory and invention, and whilst there is irony to it, it is also sincere. In this sense, his aesthetic functions as both homage and creation. It’s nostalgia reimagined: less about remembering the past, more about transforming it into something new.

fakemink’s rise speaks to a digitally fatigued generation for whom online memories, music, and style blend and overlap. If his popularity is any indication, it is exactly what today’s audiences are craving.