The evolution of hype
January 18, 2019
On November 18, 2017, it took less than a minute for the Semi Frozen Yellow Yeezy Boost 350 V2 to be completely sold out online.
Before any such “drop”–the release of a new, limited edition product–excitement nears its maximum capacity. Social media explodes from the “hype” of celebrities on Instagram, such as Kanye West—the brainchild of the Yeezy brand—who advertise the product and even inspire sneaker-enthusiasts to line up outside stores hours before the release time.
The “drop” strategy of hype brands is a precise art. The first time hype products appear online, you buy a computer “bot” that chooses the desired product to purchase—but there is only a limited time until the stock sells out. The price of a bot can be anywhere from $1.99 to the $325 AIO bot that claims to have “helped sneakerheads cop 40,000+ limited edition.” Even if everything sells out, you still have a chance to claim your prized sneaker. Online resale websites, such as Grailed, show up with the same products, which can have a price inflation upwards of 1000 percent.
The hype-tactics may appear crazy and deceitful to those unfamiliar—the design seems so simple that anyone could produce it.
Of all the hype brands, the most familiar is the red and white rectangle emblazoned on clothing: Supreme. The logo represents more than an ordinary insignia on a t-shirt—it can produce reverence, disdain, or indifference based on any given person. In other words, it is a subculture gaining a mass cult appeal. According to the Wall Street Journal, Supreme sold half of its stake to a private-equity firm Carlyle Group for $500 million, surpassing the worth of teen retailers such as Abercrombie.
Supreme grew up from humble roots, however. The brand, taking its name from John Coltrane’s tune “A Love Supreme,” originally was founded as a small, inconspicuous skate shop in New York City. The brand first appealed to a close-knit group of skateboarders, and originally had low, appealing prices. But as the hip-hop community grew and attained popular appeal, the hypebeast trend grew: when rappers A$AP Rocky, Tyler the Creator, and Kanye West donned the red and white logo, it was only so long until the fad caught on in mainstream clothes and stores.
The limited supply, it seems, combined with high demand, is the perfect recipe for ‘hype.’
The hype-tactics may appear crazy and deceitful to those unfamiliar—the design seems so simple that anyone could produce it. However, the strategy of Supreme and other hype-brands seems to work all too well. Adam Alter, a marketing professor at NYU Stern School of Business, backs up Supreme’s strategy with economics. “If you want to create a scarcity frenzy, and your brand has a strong following, all you need to do is release a large number of different products, but very few of each one,” he says. The limited supply, it seems, combined with high demand, is the perfect recipe for “hype.” The underlying philosophy of Supreme’s leader, James Jebbia is “if we can sell 600, I make 400.” This idea of limited stock conjures images of a hypebeast competing with others as if in a Hunger Games-like dash to the cornucopia—indeed, attaining hyped products sometimes seems like a matter of life or death.