10 years ago, Scott Watts purportedly had "a clearly defined agenda." Turns out, no one actually has a "clearly defined agenda." Over the next decade, Watts' career was instead shaped by circumstance: The hard-won success of a clothing label he founded at 20 led to a contract gig at Supreme, a steady tenure with Stüssy, a chance meeting with the CEO of USM Modular Furniture and, finally, his own agency.
The only throughlines were Watts, Watts' good taste, and Watts' ability to demonstrate it. Now 31, his honed perspective has guided every move he's made since the beginning. To know his work is to know what it takes to comfortably stride through a finicky industry.
You've seen his work, you just didn't know it was his. Among other things, Watts had a hand in many Supreme drops of the early 2020s and still helps guide Stüssy's direction, particularly its ongoing Nike partnership. His resume's crown jewel is the USM x Humanrace partnership that debuted at Milan Design Week 2025, a perfect partnership for many reasons, not least because it proves the power of Watts' prescience. USM Humanrace makes plenty of sense in hindsight but hindsight is cheap. Foresight is rare. How many people could've brought these two companies together? Only Scott Watts.
On an unseasonably warm spring day, I caught up with Watts at a restaurant on the fringe of SoHo. Having only talked over email until that point, I wasn't sure I'd recognize him. But Watts stood out in the way that stylish people tend to, his dark jacket and jeans recognizable amidst a sea of sundresses and graphic tees. Also, he's very tall.
Over the course of an hour, Watts and I discussed his short but stacked body of work, which began when he was just a kid from Miami, has since led him all across the world. Just the other month, he visited a historic French villa with New Balance for USM. Now, he's back in New York for a project with Levi's.
If you've ever wondered what it takes to succeed in and beyond streetwear, just ask Scott Watts.
This interview has been condensed and edited.
Let's go back to the beginning.
Back in 2015, when I was 20, I started my own brand, Gallery 909. And as I started to get traction online, people like Travis Scott would reach out to me — he was one of the first big names to support my product.
He reached out to you? Not his stylist?
Yeah, this was before his first album. Kanye reached out to me, too, back when he was doing Sunday Service. After I came back from working with him and resumed the brand, Supreme reached out. It was amazing. I had modeled everything after Supreme: The way I shot the models, the way I would cast the models, everything. Supreme was the mecca of menswear.
What did Supreme talk with you about?
They said something like "We love your work. Can you show us something based off these concepts?" I think James [Jebbia, Supreme founder] had directly seen my product because when I came to their office, two of the higher ups told me something like, "James is interested." I got to meet him, which was the craziest thing ever — we were in his corner office and he was playing this song, I'll never forget it: "Summer Madness" by Kool and the Gang. He had these big, banging, awesome speakers from the '90s, one on each side, and he's just talking with the music playing.
Now that's a meeting with the boss.
Totally. I ended up working with Supreme on a contract for a couple months. consulting on product and the overall collection. They later had me designing outerwear and doing research. James was very adamant on '90s and early-2000s culture, digging deeper than they were already digging. It was very visual, a lot of "Don't just show me the design but show me the context in which it lives."
You cut your teeth with Supreme before moving to Stüssy.
It's funny because I couldn't have gone Stüssy without Supreme. James went Stüssy Supreme, I went Supreme Stüssy. My friend Liam MacRae brought me in at the beginning of Stüssy's turnaround [around 2018]. He reached out to me and he was like, "Are you interested?" I came on with the same dynamic as Supreme, except that they had me on a retainer and I was the only one in New York. I consulted on the broader image and helped with specific ideas. There were multiple jackets and sweaters hand-drawn by me in the Summer 2020, Spring 2021 collections.
What were the differences between working with Supreme and Stüssy?
Stüssy was a smaller team. It felt more family oriented. Supreme felt like JP Morgan, you know: You talk to James, but under James are two guys, and under those two are six, and under that six are 12. You can kind of get lost in the machine, whereas Stüssy was the opposite. I only spoke to one guy, there wasn't anybody above him.
Stüssy is like a think tank. It feels like you're really contributing to the product. Up until two years ago, you'd have people working all over everything. The main collection, the hardware, the collabs with Nike, Converse, and Levi's. That was good because you'd stay inspired. You're tasting other things that you may not at Supreme. Supreme is defensive, in a sense. They wanna see what you have, they wanna see what your idea is, and then they give you direction.
You can really see that. Supreme moves in all different directions, while Stüssy is always Stüssy.
Supreme likes to be shocked, whereas Stüssy is rooted in its codes.
Also, you've been with these brands long enough to see them rise, fell, rise again.
Well, with streetwear, everybody's heavy, heavy critical. Not from a detail standpoint but the overall sentiment. You're hot or you're not — they're not gonna explain. Supreme has always been good visually. Whenever it lacks, people blame the product, never the visuals. But Stussy's whole brand image needed a revival, from image to product.
The great thing about Stüssy's resurgence is that it never tried to be Supreme. It never tried to be another brand. It expanded on its known identity. It's always "How do we incorporate the California guy, the surfer." The Baltoro boot, which was the most recent Nike thing I worked on alongside the apparel, was a sweet spot. The boot itself was already about hiking, camping, the outdoors, and we just gave it this California feel. It's Stüssy doing Stüssy, not fashion or what's cool on Instagram. Stüssy does things only when it's ready. It times things right. That's the formula.
How did starting your own brand set you up for all of this?
Businesswise, my brand did OK but it was a labor of love. And it opened doors that paid off more lucratively than the brand itself. I landed a feature in 032C and, once, Frank Ocean wore one of my pieces.
I've always had a good eye in the sense that I usually know what's coming. You have to have taste and that taste has to then be visible to other people. And luckily I've been just visible enough to be seen because I would never know where to apply for Supreme. I would have never known where to apply for Stüssy. I'm grateful for the fact that I was ushered in, scouted in a sense. That's the type of relationship you can't manufacture.
Does Supreme still "scout" designers like it did you?
I don't know, and I'm sure it's a little more formal now. But Supreme is still so plugged-in. I've been in meetings with their executives and heard them mention things I don't think even peers of mine would be looking at. That's how you have to be to stay on top.
When did you meet the USM team?
I met Jon [Thorson, USM CEO] in Milan during Design Week a few years ago but I didn't really even know what USM was at that point. I just know he was good with my friend Devon [Turnbull, artist and sound engineer]. As we got familiar with each other, I got a deeper understanding of USM's prestige and reputation.
How do you think USM was perceived at that time?
It wasn't peaking like it is now — it had the heritage but it wasn't a staple name to the younger consumer. I think that was part of Jon's mission, to change that without polarizing their customer or being untrue to USM.
And you introduced them to Humanrace.
Yeah, it was really good timing for both of them. Just like with USM, Humanrace wanted to expand and be more than skincare and clothes. It's good that Jon's always open. He didn't know Humanrace like that. And, if you compare this label Pharrell founded like five years ago against this 100-year-old Swiss giant, it's the Swiss giant who has the leverage. But I had Jon's trust.
I wasn't actually that close with Humanrace at first, but after talking to Edward [Robinson, cofounder], I knew it'd be a great look for both of them because they'd look great together. I only really push things like this when it's like, "OK, this is really gonna elevate the brand." Same thing with Stüssy, anything I've ever pushed forward, it's like, "I think this can elevate the brand."
Did you ever discuss a Stüssy/USM crossover?
We were talking about doing a Stüssy USM piece but it didn't go through. Supreme had already done it and Stüssy didn't have the need for it. Any another brand, they would've said "Hell, yeah, let's do it. Let's make a cabinet, just to compete." But for Stüssy, that would've been inauthentic. Choosing what not to do is a real strength.
So, you're still working with Stüssy, you're working with USM, and now you have your own agency, GA9.
Right. I've been lucky to work with a lot of big machines. I've been able to get to the top of the machines and influence the machines. The agency is me contributing some of that perspective. And we do experiences, we do build-outs, we work with multiple business that trust me, like Stüssy and USM.
I don't only wanna speak to the kid who's a fashion-head. I wanna speak to the person who's just walking in the mall. Like, when I saw the first iPhone 4 in Aventura Mall in Miami, it was just some middle-aged guy holding it to his ear. But the way the light was hitting, I was like, "Yo, I need that." Those moments are what you create for, even if no product is involved.
Do you still like clothing?
Yeah. I love clothing, but as utility. I'm a fan of how architects dress, how the guys on Wall Street dress. They're trying to be the best in their field and their uniform reflects that. I'm into uniformity. Things that are muted, subtle, Prada, Veilance, things like that. I like being a silent killer.
Hitman.
I like people to not know until — oh, snap! You know! It's a dopamine hit when a guy seems flat but then you learn he did this or did that. The guy who walks in and you don't know if he's worth $50 or $50 billion. There's depth to that.
That's a very James Jebbia attitude. I know he shops at stores like C'H'C'M'.
One day, I ran into him outside Nanamica [in SoHo]. But, yeah, he's running his ship every day. He wants people to pay attention to the vision. You have to have a neutral appearance so that when people are listening, they're not getting distracted.
Our dopamine receptors are so cooked. We love big people, big images, grandiose visions, and that's what fashion was for a while. You have to teach yourself the difference between what's noise and what's actually cool.
How does that approach relate to your design work?
Luckily, I was at the front of this brand crossover in the furniture space, but now it's getting oversaturated. The challenge is to deliver something new. This space is crazy dense. People are pushing into areas that used to not be available. I'm a fan of it. I'm a fan of design.
It's good for the consumer that they get to be enriched with experience. Nobody's really trying to sell you a chair anymore. They're trying to sell you a feeling. In return, the consumer gets some agency back. He has a choice to reject or buy in. It makes him more aware of regular design.
What's coming next?
I think the next sector is gonna be finance. Design used to be boring, you know? Now, it's everything. The next challenge is seeing how you can get creative in the space of Chase and Goldman Sachs.
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