Supreme, Volume 2 Covers a Lot of Ground, From Skateboarding to Streetwear Domination

Its universe was significantly smaller when the brand released its first book, Supreme, Volume 1, in 2008. With an introduction by Glenn O’Brien, an essay by Aaron Bondaroff, and an 11-page interview between Jebbia and Kaws, the original Supreme tome felt personal—and even a little revealing. The key figures of the Supreme lifestyle were opening up their world, and it was a grittily un-glamorous one. There are way more trash cans covered in Supreme stickers in Volume 1 than in Volume 2. There are more peeling posters, more naked women, more goofing off, and much more rawness around the edges. That first book was a big-time declaration of making it by a bunch of dudes who lived on the fringes of the worlds of fashion, art, and culture. In 2008, Supreme was still a weird fascination. Now it’s everything.

As such, Supreme, Volume 2 functions as a lesson on what happens when something once niche goes mainstream. The brand that is still so much about its core group of friends, skaters, and collaborators, now has to contend with its corporate status. The 351-page book deals with this by not dealing with it at all, really. There is no Jebbia interview to explain how Supreme has changed, no quotes from the people who were there to make and remake its image. Instead the book is introduced with an essay by critic Carlo McCormick and with a poem by Harmony Korine. The pages that follow are glossy, with photos of Kate Moss, Lady Gaga, and a still from Ben Solomon’s 2011 film, Aerial, showing the Supreme flag waving over the Statue of Liberty. In between the celebrities, a lot of the first and second waves of Supreme crew weave in and out, with Jason Dill, Alex Olson, Kevin Bradley, and Dylan Rieder appearing in candid photos. The second-to-last image in the book is of Tyshawn Jones crying while receiving Thrasher’s skater of the year award in 2018.

The secret community Supreme was founded on still exists, it’s just further underground and overshadowed by its viral presence. To celebrate the launch of the new book, the brand gathered its friends and family on Crosby Street last Friday for a small gathering. No lines, no drops, almost no selfies—not even a real invite or guest list, at least as far as I could tell. The banner from the Lafayette Street store, which is undergoing a facelift, was hung up next to a bar serving red wine or white wine, and red cans of beer (Budweiser) or white cans of beer (Modelo). Get it? Jebbia was there, too, circulating among the Supreme skaters, models, photographers, and fashion-world, art-world, and culture-world people crammed into the small room.

Days later, Supreme, Volume 2 appeared on my desk in a large white box. Scribbled in blue pen was the text: From: SUPREME. There was no label. Cultivating this omnipresent aloofness is the new Supreme way. Take the book out of its sleeve and flip it over: On the back cover SUPREME is embossed, and below it in all-caps black text are the words: Fuck you we do what we want. Those are strong words, but the right ones. Being in your face is always what Supreme has done best.

Supreme, Volume 2 is available at Supreme stores and online.