How a Frog, a Unicorn, and a March in Maine Rekindled My Fire

Last weekend, my husband and I joined the No Kings March in Waterville, Maine. It wasn’t a huge event—no massive crowds, no viral spectacle—but it was alive. The kind of alive that makes you remember why you care in the first place. People of every stripe showed up, carrying hand-painted signs, dressed in costumes, and singing in the streets. We didn’t agree on everything, but we agreed on the big things: that people matter, that democracy matters, and that cruelty is not strength. It felt good to stand shoulder to shoulder with strangers again, hearts beating in time.

There were no frogs that day, but there were unicorns, T-Rexes, and bunnies marching beside us. The air was electric—part protest, part carnival. It reminded me of the images coming out of Portland, Oregon, where demonstrators outside the ICE field office have been doing something remarkable: turning protest into performance art. They’ve shown up in inflatable costumes—frogs, unicorns, dinosaurs, even bananas—under the cheeky name “Operation Inflation.” It began after a protester in a frog suit was pepper-sprayed, and the image went viral. The absurdity of it—a giant inflatable frog as a symbol of resistance—caught on.

That frog became a kind of folk hero, an accidental mascot of peaceful defiance. In Portland, these protesters found a way to push back against fear and intimidation with humor and imagination. Instead of riot gear, they brought whimsy. Instead of violence, laughter. And somehow, that joy made their message louder. They stood against injustice, but they refused to let despair define the tone. The movement said: we can be angry, and still be kind. We can fight oppression without losing our sense of wonder.

That image stuck with me. The frog sitting proudly atop an ice cube, a symbol of both fragility and persistence. So when I got back home from the march, I designed a t-shirt around that idea. I called it “NO ICE.” It’s a frog perched on a melting ice cube, shining with stubborn optimism. It’s both literal and metaphorical: a call to melt away systems built on cruelty, and a reminder that warmth—empathy, humor, humanity—is the most subversive power of all.

Creating this design brought me back to the early days of Hunky Tops, when I was running on pure creative adrenaline and purpose. Somewhere along the way, between spreadsheets and social posts, I’d started feeling disconnected. But standing in that march, surrounded by costumes and conviction, I remembered why I started this brand: to make things that express pride, solidarity, joy, and a sense of belonging. To make shirts that speak truth with a wink, not a scream.

We live in strange times, but strange can be beautiful. A frog on an ice cube can start a movement. A t-shirt can start a conversation. And a march in a small town in Maine can remind you that the fight for dignity and compassion is still worth showing up for.

If you want to carry a bit of that spirit with you, check out the NO ICE T-Shirt. Wear it proud, make it hunky—and keep melting the cold wherever you go.