The story of Headshop doesn’t start on a fairway—it starts in a haze of incense smoke in San Francisco’s Haight-Ashbury, back in the 90s. That’s where Sam “Cosmo” Ellis ran a joint called Golden Gate Headshop, a psychedelic little haven where you could pick up a blown-glass pipe, talk conspiracy theories, and maybe walk out with a bootleg Jerry Garcia tape and a renewed sense of cosmic purpose.

Sam was the kind of guy who could break down the Dead’s Europe '72 and explain why your putter alignment was all off—if you were high enough to follow. He swore that getting stoned before a round of golf wasn’t just fun—it was spiritual. A meditative journey across 18 holes of shifting winds, worm burners, and sudden moments of transcendence.

When Sam passed the headshop down to his kids in the early 2000s, they took the philosophy and ran with it. Literally—to the golf course. They grew the brand into a lifestyle, blending trippy, vintage aesthetics with clean streetwear made for stoned range sessions, twilight nine-hole strolls, and post-round tokes in the parking lot.

Headshop isn’t about winning or keeping score. It’s about vibing out, hitting it pure (or not), and laughing your ass off when you chunk one into the pond. It’s golf, elevated.