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Every few seasons, Supreme returns to the cultural well to pull up something paradoxically obvious yet deeply surprising. For Week 13 of Fall/Winter 2025, that “something” is a collab with True Religion—yes, the horseshoe-stitched, hyper-iconic, early-2000s denim label that once defined the silhouette of a specific American dream. It’s a pairing that feels both tongue-in-cheek and perfectly sincere. Nostalgia has become an aesthetic marketplace, and Supreme knows how to excavate meaning from the brands that once constructed adolescence.

True Religion, long before Instagram aesthetics, existed at the intersection of haute aspiration and mall-circuit reality. Today, its name carries the weight of an alternate timeline—a world of boot-cut jeans, rhinestone pockets, tred tracksuits, mixtape-era hip-hop, and the glint of chrome in early MTV cribs. For Supreme, this is fertile territory. Week 13 transforms that legacy into a modern Manhattan-ready capsule that feels both reverent and renegade.

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The resurgence of Y2K fashion has typically focused on silhouettes—low-rise, tight-cut, sparkly—but has rarely engaged with the brands that originally authored these aesthetics. True Religion is different. Its reign in the 2000s wasn’t ironic. It was aspirational and loud, an early form of fashion as personality broadcast.

By 2025, the industry has fully reembraced garment maximalism: overstated stitching, washed denim patinas, and Americana flair. Gen Z and Gen Alpha’s fascination with pre-digital aesthetics has created a renewed appetite for pieces that feel tactile and specific. True Religion’s signature horseshoe is no longer kitsch—it’s iconography.

Supreme’s decision to collaborate with the brand isn’t about reviving a trend. It’s about reviving an era’s language and inserting it into the modern streetwear dictionary.

capsule

Supreme × True Religion FW25 Week 13 is defined by a duality—clean modernity against unapologetic throwback glam. While Supreme’s denim pieces historically lean utilitarian, this capsule leans expressive, adopting the unmistakable DNA of True Religion’s “Fearless Denim” era.

 

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denim trucker jacket

The hero piece of the release is a heavyweight denim trucker jacket washed to the exact shade of mid-2000s Americana blue: sun-worn at the seams, shadowed at the shoulders, and softened across the arms. The horseshoe stitching is rendered in thick contrast threads, but Supreme tempers the maximalism with minimal branding. A small, crisp red box logo tag sits on the chest pocket, barely interrupting the geometry. The interior patch merges both brand identities: Supreme’s san-serif boldness and True Religion’s copper-plate nostalgia.

The jacket isn’t simply a throwback. It’s engineered with updated construction—selvedge accents, double-panel reinforcement, a slightly cropped cut that pairs with modern baggy trousers, and a weight that sits between fashion and utility.

denim jeans

Supreme revisits True Religion’s most recognizable garment with reverence. The shape remains iconically flared—somewhere between a wide straight and a soft bootcut—but updated for 2025’s baggier streetwear momentum. The lock-stitch horseshoe pockets, once a symbol of maximalist luxury, now read as graphic texture, almost graffiti-like. Supreme overlays subtle red contrast bar tacks and a co-branded leather patch. The wash options include a deep indigo, a bleached ice wash, and a black denim with smoked gradients resembling city grit.

hoodie and thermal set

Beyond denim, the collaboration explores fabric textures that defined mid-2000s street culture. The fleece hoodie takes True Religion’s horseshoe emblem and inflates it into a raised chenille patch. Supreme’s logo appears in a curved script that nods to early merch typography popularized by hip-hop DVDs and mixtape street teams. The thermal henley references biker culture, pairing ribbed cotton with tattoo-era fonts and archival True Religion shield crests reimagined as Supreme graphics.

accessories

Week 13 includes a handful of accessories designed to punctuate the capsule without overwhelming it. The standout is a trucker cap that merges True Religion’s cowboy-glam sensibility with Supreme’s skate DNA. Instead of rhinestones, Supreme opts for metallic thread that catches the light without tipping into irony. A horseshoe keychain, a leather belt with a co-branded buckle, and a small denim zip pouch round out the drop.

Each piece feels intensely referential but never costume-like. It’s a capsule grounded in memory yet sharpened by modern tailoring and editorial minimalism.

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What makes the connection more than an easy nostalgia play is its cultural context. True Religion was once the unofficial uniform of mixtape rappers and after-hours promoters. Meanwhile, Supreme grew from downtown skate shops where kids remixed luxury logos with permanent markers and duct tape. The two worlds weren’t adjacent—they were parallel.

This Week 13 release creates a fictional bridge between the Lower East Side and mid-2000s LA-dipped glamour, between skaters and the hip-hop stars they admired from afar. It recognizes that fashion cultures often move in cycles but return to each other with new interpretations.

Today, these references carry weight. They represent an era that younger consumers approach with anthropological fascination and older consumers revisit with wistful recognition.

flow

Supreme’s FW25 has been about texture—shearling, coated nylon, embellished canvas, heavy flannels, metallic knits. The True Religion capsule slots into that storyline not as a novelty moment but as a thematic continuation.

This collection is about material memory: objects that look like they have lived, garments that already feel mythologized. The denim’s pre-distressed wash mimics years of city wear. The hoodies evoke the texture of old concert merch washed a few too many times. The silhouettes reject trend-chasing minimalism and lean into shape and dimension.

Supreme’s Week 13 drop acts as the point where the season’s narrative fully crystallizes. FW25’s overarching mood is “weathered Americana meets modern street utility.” True Religion provides the perfect historical lens for that narrative.

the why

By 2025, the lines between luxury, mass-market, and cult nostalgia have blurred to the point of irrelevance. Dior and Louis Vuitton have embraced Y2K silhouettes; Balenciaga riffs on mall culture; Miu Miu references early-2000s teenage bedrooms. What was once “tacky” has become “authentic,” and what was once dismissed as suburban flashiness now reads as subversively glamorous.

True Religion’s revival is not accidental. The horseshoe stitch, once ubiquitous, has aged into a cultural artifact. It signals optimism, excess, risk, and performance. Supreme, forever invested in the semiotics of street culture, recognizes that.

Partnerships like this are not about rescuing brands—they are about reframing them. True Religion becomes a vessel for contemporary storytelling. Supreme becomes the cultural interpreter.

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There’s a poetic symmetry to this collaboration. The kids who wore True Religion in 2007 were often dismissed as too flashy, too loud, too bling-forward. The kids who wore Supreme in 2013 were often dismissed as too hype-driven, too logo-obsessed, too online. Today, those once-derided aesthetics collide with mutual respect.

Week 13 symbolizes the evolution of streetwear as a cultural language. No longer siloed by subculture—skate, hip-hop, graffiti, club—it has become a shared vocabulary. The Supreme × True Religion capsule feels like a handshake between generations of kids who expressed themselves through the clothes they could afford, covet, trade, or save up for.

The collect acknowledges both histories without flattening either.

fin

Supreme × True Religion FW25 Week 13 is more than a hype moment. It’s a study in cultural memory, an homage to two subcultures that grew adjacent and now meet in fashion’s most dynamic era. The denim mythology of True Religion finds new life through Supreme’s editorial edge. The capsule avoids irony, avoids parody, avoids minimalism for minimalism’s sake. Instead, it celebrates the loudness, optimism, and swagger of American street culture at its most expressive.

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