Exclusive: Denim Tears Is Levelling Up

If New York-based streetwear label Denim Tears has an unofficial logo, it’s the cotton wreath.

The circle of white bolls can be seen splashed across sweats and Levi’s jeans worn by kids in New York City. It’s been embraced by celebrities such as ASAP Rocky, bootleggers, resellers on StockX and luxury brands such as Dior and Comme des Garçons for high fashion collaborations. Earlier this year the brand released — and sold out — cashmere sweatsuits retailing for as much as $2,800 with wreaths made from Swarovski crystals.

The emblem has become a hit for Denim Tears since founder Tremaine Emory introduced it in 2020. The wreath, to him, symbolises the history of slavery and the plight of African Americans, and it’s just one of many designs from a label that’s committed to sharing stories about the Black diaspora.

That commitment made Denim Tears what it is today, a business that according to the brand is generating “tens of millions” in annual revenue and has doubled sales every year since its founding in 2019 — without any investors and only one retail partner, Dover Street Market, where it sells via a concession model. Next, the brand is set to expand beyond its lone flagship store in New York, with a location in Tokyo set for 2026 and plans to eventually open stores in cities such as Atlanta, Chicago, Houston, Philadelphia, Portland and Los Angeles to serve its predominately American customer base.

That success has come in spite of — or to some degree because of — the controversy Emory has stirred. While he has provoked audiences with releases such as a necklace made out of chicken bones, it was his 2023 split with Supreme, just 18 months after being appointed the first named creative director of the brand, that elicited some of the strongest reactions. When he explained on social media that the rift occurred because he had been prevented from using images by artist Arthur Jafa — one picture showing a Black man being lynched, and another depicting the whip scarring on the back of a freed slave — on Supreme apparel, alleging “systematic racism,” many fans criticised what they saw as Emory’s commercialisation of Black trauma.

But Emory’s outspokenness has also been the anchor for Denim Tears, a Black-owned label akin to the 1990s brand FUBU in its desire to speak to its community first and foremost. Emory said he’s an artist whose designs are open to critique, but he feels his expression of the Black experience is neither monolithic nor overly fixated on negative tribulations. He doesn’t plan to change his creative approach, which he said isn’t intentionally provocative.

“When I’m making these collections, the only thing that’s provocative to me is that these things haven’t been talked about before,” said Emory. “That’s the real provocative thing to me, the lack of knowledge.”

Given the polarised political climate in the US, when many Black Americans and other minorities feel under attack, his perspective is a point of attraction, not a detriment, in the eyes of many of Denim Tears’ customers.

“He’s taken some important stands, he hasn’t played it safe, and sticks to his values,” said Jonathan M. Square, an assistant professor of Black visual culture at Parsons School of Design, who’s also a customer of the brand. “We’re in a moment where people want to support a project and a brand that’s aligned with their values.”

From StockX to the Met

Though it’s hard to gauge the performance of a brand with almost no retail distribution, its momentum is evident on the resale market. On StockX, sales of Denim Tears items grew 290 percent in 2024 — after Emory exited Supreme — compared to 2023, and in the first half of 2025, the brand’s products sold for 31 percent above retail on average, up from 21 percent during the same period last year.

Maybe its biggest recent win, however, has had nothing to do with sales to online hypebeasts. It was Denim Tears’ inclusion in exhibitions at the Metropolitan Museum’s Costume Institute, such as “Superfine: Tailoring Black Style” and “America: A Lexicon in Fashion.” Garments such as Ralph Lauren-esque knit sweaters with a Pan-African American flag, cheekily dubbed the “Tyson Beckford” sweater in reference to the longtime Polo model, are a part of the Costume Institute’s permanent collections alongside Levi’s denim featuring the label’s cotton wreath.

“What attracts us most to Tremaine’s work for Denim Tears is the strength of his point of view and his mission to highlight the stories and the histories of Black Americans, his own personal history and the contributions of members of the African diaspora,” said Amanda Garfinkel, an associate curator for The Met’s Costume Institute.

Emory’s design language of wardrobe mainstays such as jeans or hoodies adorned with graphics and political commentary like “Get Rich or D.E.I. Trying” comes from being a student-turned-thought-leader of streetwear in the same vein as his friend, the late Virgil Abloh. The way the brand forefronts Black identity is also evident at its New York flagship, dubbed “African Diaspora Goods.” Half of the store, which is situated in the original location of the pioneering streetwear retailer Union at 176 Spring Street, is reserved for a library that contains 1,500 books on African art rather than clothes.

Emory envisions Denim Tears future stores serving a similar purpose.

“I want each store to express parts of the diaspora through a collection [of Black ephemera],” he said. “There’s so much that needs to be saved and preserved for future generations and our stores can play a part in that.”

Growth Mode

While Denim Tears does 85 percent of business via e-commerce, physical retail is key for growth, according to Emory, because he wants his customers to feel the quality of the garments and explore the meaning behind the collections. Granted that the label’s strongest categories are staples such as hoodies, sweatpants and T-shirts, Emory finds repeat customers are also gravitating towards upscale ready-to-wear offerings beyond graphic apparel, such as leather pants and shearling coats.

Anthony Specter, Emory’s business partner, said Denim Tears is approaching new product categories carefully to maintain quality, and that the label’s currently focussed on outerwear and shirting while expanding its accessories into small leather goods, sunglasses and potentially jewellery.

The vision is to build out an entire wardrobe for the Denim Tears’ customer, who comes to the label organically, Specter noted. The brand, which he said has been profitable from the start, doesn’t do paid marketing.

“The reality is we live in a time where the consumer really must connect to the product through authentic storytelling, authentic creativity and authentic community,” said Specter. ”When you have those things in abundance, you don’t need to pay to acquire customers.”

The company has grown to more than 30 employees who’ve come from streetwear brands such as Supreme and Aimé Leon Dore as well as luxury houses like Balenciaga. Denim Tears’ international customer base is growing, too, in cities like London and Paris, as well as countries such as Japan and Korea, even though many of these shoppers don’t have a personal connection to the racial history Emory draws on beyond pop culture.

Emory believes they still can appreciate the meaning behind the label, and that the brand can appeal to anyone who has respect and passion for the stories behind the Black diaspora. It communicates not only with its clothing but through media projects such as full-length film documentaries that delve into the real people and stories that inspire its collections.

“The way they put out their brand identity is really amazing on the marketing side, because their storytelling doubles-down on who they are instead of what they think they should be,” said Ismaila “Ish” Traoré, founder of the creative agency Coral Studios and previously a creative for Wieden+Kennedy.

Beyond Denim Tears, many other identity-focused streetwear brands by BIPOC founders have emerged post-2020, when the Black Lives Matter movement drew global attention. Emory believes that the larger streetwear category is now dominated by these types of labels, crediting “the inequities in America and Western civilisation.”

“If you go up to Supreme, there are not too many people that look like me or Clint [419, founder of streetwear brand Corteiz] there,” Emory said. “Yet the style of clothing is heavily based on how Black people or minorities have influenced culture.”

Emory’s mission is to make sure nobody forgets that influence or what Black people had to overcome to achieve it. He compares Denim Tears to the films of director Spike Lee.

“The vantage point in most of his films is his perspective of Black life in America. People laugh, cry, smile and get angry with these films he makes,” said Emory. “I say it’s the same for Denim Tears. If you’re a human being, you can relate to the stories and learn from them.”

Editor’s Note: This story was amended on July 24 to correct the address of African Diaspora Goods.