The fact that Jebbia still places such value on the idea of "discovering" Supreme is both optimistic and a little naive. After all, over the past decade, Supreme's red-and-white box logo has become arguably the purest symbol of cool fashion has to offer—but exclusive doesn't mean lack of awareness. In fact, what's made Supreme so successful is that the people who want its clothing far outnumber the few who can actually buy it. The result is a booming aftermarket for its products (something Jebbia says he "doesn't think about because there's really nothing we can do about it"), a booming-er counterfeit market, and consistently long lines at its stores. Jebbia insists that this new, less-centralized store will help with that last problem, siphoning off customers from its SoHo location and creating an easier shopping experience. Will it work? Or will the new store simply encourage even more hopeful customers to spend their Thursday mornings (when Supreme drops new product) waiting in line against the backdrop of strollers and fair-trade coffee, instead of the bustling streets of SoHo?

Because Williamsburg isn't exactly off the beaten path. The neighborhood—now home to a Whole Foods and an Apple Store—is something of a punching bag for anti-gentrifiers, but Jebbia doesn't see Supreme as a pioneer of new neighborhoods. "We looked in other neighborhoods, but to be perfectly honest, Williamsburg was no more money than Bushwick," he explains. "People say, 'Oh, Williamsburg is already over,' but we don't really care. When we opened in Paris, we opened in the Marais. And when we opened in London, it was in Soho. These aren't, like, edgy places. These are places where people—and young people—hang out. We don't like to be in places where people don't go," he says.