Supreme’s End Racism Tee Is Just a Costume
When streetwear sells justice but delivers nothing back
"Supreme made a T-shirt that ends racism. Hip hip hooray." That was my first reaction to the Supreme x Good Enough "End Racism" drop of June 2025. Not because I don’t care about the message, I do. But because we’ve seen this movie before. The black square sequel.
In 2020, we watched brands race to post about George Floyd. Instagram solidarity carousels. Statements of support. Billion-dollar promises. Most of them quietly tiptoed out the back door to the next social movement trend. Absolutely No follow-through.
And now, five years later, Supreme puts out a shirt that says "End Racism" in big bold type. A shirt originally designed by Hiroshi Fujiwara and friends in the 1990s as a raw, defiant call to action, back when it actually meant something to risk putting that message out into the world.
But this time around? No stated donations. No public partnership. No proceeds to Black-led organizations. No acknowledgment of what that message means in today’s climate.
Just another limited drop. Just another box logo tee. And Supreme fans ate it up.
The Legacy of the "End Racism" Tee
The original End Racism T-shirt wasn’t designed in a marketing war room. It was made in the ’90s by Hiroshi Fujiwara and the Good Enough crew as a raw, punk statement against racial injustice.
That design resurfaced in 2020 when Infinite Archives teamed up with Fragment Design to reissue the tee during the George Floyd protests, donating 100% of proceeds to Theaster Gates’ Rebuild Foundation, a nonprofit that provides cultural development and community support on the South Side of Chicago. It was a reissue with purpose, released at a time when communities were in urgent need, and it moved with urgency.
So when Supreme tapped into this legacy in 2025, you’d hope they’d uphold that same standard or better yet, raise the bar.
They didn’t. The collab dropped with fanfare but without substance. No donation announced. No community orgs named. No meaningful actions disclosed.
Supreme leveraged the cultural capital of anti-racism to sell product. They wore the message without living it.
What Participation Actually Looks Like
No one expects Supreme to dismantle systemic racism. But if you’re gonna print "End Racism" on a shirt, a phrase loaded with pain, history, and demand, you’d better back it up with more than a 6 oz. cotton tee.
Because in 2025, statements without support don’t save lives, they just help Supreme turn protest into product.
You say "End Racism", but your parent company, EssilorLuxottica, has no Black leadership on its board. You champion Black creatives, but you still haven’t made things right with Tremaine Emory or Tyshawn Jones. You don’t get points for printing the message when you ignore the meaning.
Participation looks like what Born X Raised is doing during the 2025 ICE raids in Los Angeles. They didn’t just post a message of solidarity. They’ve activated 14 other brands and are donating 100% of profits from their capsule to CHIRLA, a frontline immigrant rights group providing legal services and protection. Outcomes over the optics.
Participation looks like Kids of Immigrants, who consistently use their platform to center marginalized voices, partner with organizations doing community work, and reinvest their revenue into mutual aid and direct impact.
Streetwear brands don’t need to be activists. But if you want to borrow the language of justice, if you want to profit from phrases like "End Racism", you better put something real behind it.
And this isn’t just a Supreme problem. It’s an industry-wide issue. From DEI pledges that disappeared after 2020 to performative allyship that never translates to hiring, investment, or ownership, the gap between message and movement is wider than ever.
Supreme’s "End Racism" tee isn’t a rallying cry. It’s a costume.
It’s a symbol of how easy it is for powerful brands to posture without purpose. To sell moral authority without sharing material support. To cosplay the struggle without showing up to do the work.
And if you're a fan of Supreme, this isn’t a call to boycott. This is a call to reflect. You can love the brand and still hold it accountable. You can wear the shirt and still ask: who does this actually help? And in a moment when the world is asking brands to lead with values, we have to be brave enough to say, this ain’t Good Enough.
Takeaways
1. Licensing a message ≠ backing a movement.
Supreme collaborated with Good Enough to reissue the “End Racism” tee, originally created by Hiroshi Fujiwara in the ’90s as a raw, anti-racist statement. But in 2025, there was no mention of donations, no partner orgs, no redistribution. If you can fund global drops, you can fund the communities whose struggles you’re referencing.
2. A percentage of proceeds isn’t radical, it’s the floor.
Born X Raised responded to the 2025 ICE raids in L.A. by activating 14 brands and donating 100% of profits from their tee to CHIRLA, a local immigrant rights org. Kids of Immigrants has consistently tied its revenue to community aid.
3. Say where the money goes and why.
Supreme offered no context, cause, or commitment. In contrast, Born X Raised told supporters exactly where profits were headed, to provide legal services and protection for immigrant workers and students. That kind of clarity builds trust and delivers impact.
4. Justice can’t be outsourced to the design team.
If your brand wants to use protest language, it needs a process not just vibes. That means consulting with community partners or internal voices with lived experience. If there’s no system for accountability, there’s no business using the message.
Bimma
Creator of Collab Lab
Absolutely bonkers that they still don’t know — or worse, don’t want to know — especially after everything that went down with Denim Tears.
Shining light on the good and bad. Love when a brand gets it right. Product and marketing with intention. Consistent props to Born X Raised and Kids of Immigrants