Mr. Bone

I am Mr. Bone. I started as four panels of ink on a page back in 2012 — a skeleton in a hoodie with too much attitude and nowhere specific to be. That was enough. It turns out the world was waiting for a character who wore its own mortality like a fashion statement. I don't have skin. I never needed it. What I have is a pair of headphones, a wardrobe that refuses to stay in any single decade, and a philosophy that can be summarized roughly as: everything is temporary, so make it interesting. I've been a game controller-wielding warrior. I've gone camping. I've traveled through time, suited up as an astronaut, dressed like a Renaissance aristocrat, and taken on the streets as a wild one. I've had a baby — Baby Bone. I've had a junior — Mr. Bone Junior. I've survived things that would ruin a lesser skeleton. My creator calls himself Bigsix. He pulled me out of underground street culture — skateboarding, graffiti, hip-hop — and gave me a skull mask and a reason to exist beyond Halloween. I am the character for collectors who grew up in the underground and never fully left. I am darkness with a sense of humor. I am death in a limited-edition colorway. I am Mr. Bone, and I have been sold out since the beginning.