There have been many eras of Ye (formerly known as Kanye West) – and since the early 2000s, he has come to define the coveted pivot from behind-the-scenes producer, to front-facing superstar. Genius – ‘Jeen-Yuhs’ – is the preferred caveat attached to Ye’s persona by fans, and ‘crazy’ the preferred caveat by most others. I will refrain from using the latter, for reasons regarding his mental health diagnosis – and because the term itself also feels like a lazily ascribed attribute in place of a far more complex array of variables. Ye is a difficult person to hold any fixed opinions on – the more I researched his last few eras, the more I found myself deeply contrasted in holding any sort of view.
Loathing his association with Trump, or his all-too-conversative beliefs arising from his Christian faith with America as its backdrop, set against his with-out-question contribution to fashion, the earnest spirit behind Sunday Service (beyond the messianic energy it initially portrayed) – mixed feelings appear to be the perspective most people have on Ye. This is perhaps the entire meaning behind Ye as the pop, hip hop and fashion cultural monolith we know today – and the collective journey we, as cultural consumers, have been in witnessing his every mood and viewpoint. Every great figure has to maintain an air of the unknowable about them, to keep in place the seduction of their character – sometimes I wonder if Ye is, above all else, a master of marketing; flagrantly and formidably yielding an arsenal of Jedi mind tricks on us all. We lap it up, no doubt.
Lately, the news cycle has been awash with Ye’s controversial method of expressing his thoughts & feelings – yes, there’s the ‘Skete’ saga, and his equal parts punishing and pining Kim for us all to see, all screenshots and receipts on his Instagram, but more interestingly – and relating to his vision – is the total breakdown of his relationships with adidas and Gap. The first, adidas, has been Yeezy’s partner for years – with Ye expressing time and time again that they provided the full-scale infrastructure to realise his sartorial expression. One wonders though, how Ye’s single desire to reshape streetwear (and luxury) could ever have truly manifested constricted by the red tape such conglomerates, by nature and function, exist under. Nevertheless, if anyone was cut out to do it – it was going to be Ye, uniquely situated with a varied fanbase – from the hypebeast footsoldier – to other ranks alike.
In his conversation with Linsey Davis for ABC News, Ye is asked why he would want to end a 10-year, highly lucrative deal with Gap and adidas, to which he says, “It’s those nuances where people act like they’re your daddy. They purposefully didn’t open the stores that they were supposed to – how am I born in Atlanta, yet there’s no store in Atlanta? How am I from Chicago, and there’s not a store in Chicago? That means that I was there for some specific agenda – not for Yeezy Gap to be everything I saw it could be, or the dream that I had. It’s time for me to make my own thing. I have respect and love for the Fisher family – that’s their thing and that’s their daddy’s thing. They made something great, and it inspired me – and now I need to make something great that will inspire the next me…if there ever will be.” He goes on to say, “We really had to level up and show ‘em who’s the new boss. I’m the boss. I’m no longer the mascot in the middle of the game, getting everyone hyped up to ‘wear this’ or ‘do this.’ I need to learn how to really run a company. You know, I had this new year’s resolution that I was only gonna talk to people who listen to me.” In between these very real sentiments – the powerlessness of working with companies as big as adidas and Gap – are also Ye’s allusions to his misunderstood persona. That his life’s work IS altruistic, IS meaningful and for the people. Interestingly, when challenged by Linsey as to whether Yeezy could ever be accessible price-wise – he says, customers will be able to spend $20 and get four shirts in the future.
With all this said, there’s the actual question of the YEEZY GAP collaboration. When it launched at the GAP New York store – audiences were stunned at the trash-bag installations, filled with the actual collection. In a odd, Demna-esque style – this supposed ‘hope for the masses’ was delivered as a striking offence on the harrowing class disparity between Ye and his followers – and whether this was thought-through, Jake Silbert at Highsnobiety wrote it best, “A generous consideration of Ye’s YEEZY GAP presentation circumstances might posit that by distributing utilitarian garments in a no-nonsense, celebratory manner, Ye and former YEEZY GAP partner Demna might be evening the playing field, reframing luxury garments as pragmatic clothing to be worn every day, by everyone. A less generous take might suggest that the indignity of being forced to dig through a dumpster full of discarded hoodies is itself egregious, let alone the fact that the hoodies cost $240 apiece.” This inspiration by Ye from homeless people stands in direct contrast with his own work – or lackthereof – from the now defunct YEEZY HOME SHELTERS – to the still-to-be-determined clothing collaboration with folks at Skid Row, Los Angeles.
It remains important to remember that for all the dreams and intentions of Ye, he is a billionaire – and alongside his ex wife’s family, he is a symbol of capitalism in a way that he might never be able to escape, least not acknowledge.
As it stands, Gap and Yeezy have ended their partnership. Projected to bring in $990 million in sales each year, for the next decade. After being served a letter by Ye, Gap are accused of breaching the contract – and once again, we witness the machine at war with itself. Via a New York Times piece, Gaps statement reads “While we share a vision of bringing high-quality, trend-forward, utilitarian design to all people through unique omni experiences with Yeezy Gap, how we work together to deliver this vision is not aligned,” the Gap brand president, Mark Breitbard, wrote. “And we are deciding to wind down the partnership.”
In the meantime, Ye is focused on Donda Academy – his private, Christian school designed to educate kids in the ‘post-iPhone-era’ – and comparing Kim to the Queen, in a hilarious post reading: “London, I know how you feel. I lost my queen too.”
Ye will be Ye.
Written by: Holly Bell Beaton
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