Stüssy is one of the big three pillars of contemporary streetwear alongside Supreme and Palace. They all operate in similar territories, have similar histories, and are commonly lumped together as similar brands. And, yet, they really are not.
While there'll always be people buying, coveting, trading, and talking about Supreme and Palace, Stüssy has evolved beyond streetwear. It is not the same.
Stüssy consistently turns out surprisingly viral layering pieces with influence uncontainable within the antiquated streetwear blogosphere. Its iconography isn't as passé as a Box Logo or as brash as a Triferg. Young shoppers crave it as much as stalwart fans admire it; it can be discussed in the same breath as Respected Fashion Brands.
How'd Stüssy do it?
There's been much discussion of Stüssy's rebirth already and I don't aim to retread familiar turf. There's one piece missing to this bigger puzzle, one thing that doesn't get repeated enough.
Yes, part of it is the behind-the-scenes cabal of cool quietly guiding Stüssy from the tastemaking shadows.
Yes, part of it is that evergreen name, that golden branding that hasn't aged a day in 40 years.
But you don't keep this kind of momentum just by maintaining an air of cool. No, what wins the day is incredibly potent product.
Stüssy has simply never stopped turning out an increassingly stylish selection of unfuckwithable clothes, instant classics that feel incidentally cool — the best kind of cool — because they're normal but better.
They're well-cut, well-shaped, well-presented, flavored with a pinch of Stüssy's streetwear legacy.
Whereas Stüssy's elder peers continue indulging in loud 'n proud graphic flair and its younger rivals class things up with more mature fare, Stüssy does something radical: it makes the clothes that people are already wearing. But better.
For instance, Stüssy Spring 2024 is packed, almost defiantly, with real, wearable clothes. This is the stuff that people wear to work, to school, to skate, to eat, to go on dates. But better.
You've seen these clothes before. Maybe at that one gallery opening you saw on someone's Instagram Story, scenesters slouched in the background of selfies wearing washed-out chore coats and puffy nylon shirts. Maybe while scrolling through TikTok, where hip youngs interview other hip youngs on the street, clad in quarter-zip sweaters and baggy jeans.
Stüssy isn't merely producing reasonable and nice anonymous wardrobe staples, you see. It instead has the urgency of a streetwear brand with the taste of a ready-to-wear label.
And moreso than any of its peers, Stüssy is making things that people are already wearing and want to continue wearing. None of Stüssy's peers have so successfully tapped the zeitgeist.
Overdyed, faded tops are cut wide and occasionally printed with crackled logos, like a favorite vintage sweater. Chore coats and jeans are stonewashed for comfort, affecting a similarly inviting treatment as Stüssy's other overdyed gear. There are cues drawn from workwear, militaria, and the Californian beaches where Stüssy was born, compellingly vivid and simultaneously grounded.
Everything looks lived-in and ready to be lived-in, as if it was all plucked from the closet of some downtown cool type. Contemporary Stüssy's loungey good looks are on the same wavelength as '90s J.Crew, and that's saying something.
Stüssy is so ahead of the curve that it's even cut down on graphic prints, typically a streetwear cornerstone. Oh, they're still there, but they're either modest — like a printed "80" that subtly references the year of Stüssy's founding — or indulgently retro, with all-over patterns that call back to classic Stüssy motifs.
Stüssy knows the power of strategically deploying its iconography: three-fourths of Stüssy's debut jewelry line vanished as quickly as it all arrived based purely on how well it harnessed signature shapes.
A lot of what Stüssy is making right now could pass for stuff sold by brands that sell clothes at thrice the price of Stüssy — or maybe it's that those brands could pass for Stüssy.
That's really why Stüssy is so good right now: it's making young people's clothes for grown-ups. There is no age or gender restriction on anything it produces, nothing so juvenile as to be cringe and nothing so aspirational as to be challenging.
For example, Stüssy's blazers are relaxed enough that they can be worn like cardigans and its high-vis technical jackets are smart enough that they can be worn with collared shirts (if they weren't all sold-out already).
Yeah, there are big-time sneaker collabs, special merch, and smart partnerships that reestablish consistently reaffirm Stüssy's vitality. But they come second to the unpretentious, excellent clothes.
And as simple as that sounds, there's a reason that only Stüssy has been this good for this long.
