It Was Never About the Sweatshirt
How the Viral Brand Parke and the West Village Merchandised Belonging
In the last month, The Cut published two fascinating articles. One is about Parke, a viral sweatshirt brand. The other? A love letter to the West Village and its carefully calibrated aesthetic. On the surface, they seem unrelated. Look closer, and they’re both chasing the same thing: belonging.
Middle school was terrifying, and belonging felt essential to me. But I came at it from the opposite angle. I wanted to be embraced for who I was, not for blending in. A mouth full of braces, glasses in the classroom, and barely five feet tall until well after high school never landed me the lead in the school musical. So I doubled down. I may be small, but hear me roar wasn’t just a mindset — it was the theme of my college application essay.
But what once felt instinctive now feels increasingly rare.
One young woman told The Cut in It Must Be Nice to Be a West Village Girl:
We’re all the same! We’re all doing the same thing! It’s not a bad thing. It’s community!
In the West Village, conformity isn’t a flaw — it’s a feature.
Today’s generation finds comfort in blending in. A new kind of sorority, if you will. When I take the subway downtown on the weekends, I see it everywhere — in the brands they champion, the outfits they repeat, the aesthetics they align with. For Parke, the sweatshirts are thick, the branding is clean, and the denim is ordinary. For the West Village girlies, the buns are tight, the Sambas are worn in, and the matcha is iced. The subtext stays the same whether it’s a brownstone stoop or a TikTok scroll.
It’s not just about looking the part. It’s what it quietly signals. What looks like a trend is really a masterclass in modern merchandising — and Parke and the West Village are leading the charge.
The Uniform You Choose
Trends move at warp speed. Just when I figure out how to make Brat work, it no longer fits the narrative. What’s in? What’s out? Where do I fit in? Then it resets, which makes it harder than ever to define your style.
Enter Chelsea Kramer. She went from TikTok creator to running a multimillion-dollar brand — all in under two years (sound the applause). Her secret? She made the Parke sweatshirt feel like a uniform. Not the kind you’re assigned in private school, but the kind you choose. The logo screams, “I’m in, I’m hot, and my status is Parke-coded.”
Suddenly, your whole persona is figured out. And so is everyone else’s in your friend group. There’s safety in numbers. The Parke sweatshirt isn’t just cozy. It’s clarity. It’s cohesion.
It’s identity, boiled down to one embroidered word.
Forget Abercrombie. Forget Juicy. Those logos meant everything to my generation, but that was top-down influence. Today? It’s friend to friend. Feed to feed. No stylist required. Just the internet, your phone, and your fingers. Follow. Screenshot. Add to cart.
And in the West Village, it’s not just a place to live — it’s a look, a lifestyle, a way to signal who you are (or want to be), no lease required. Heather Domi, a Compass real estate agent, told The Cut in It Must Be Nice to Be a West Village Girl:
If the girls aren’t living in the West Village, they’re consuming the West Village.
Whether it’s the Parke sweatshirt or a West Village address, the persona is undeniable.
Taste as Trust, Style as Strategy
Chelsea Kramer isn't a designer — she's the new merchandiser. She’s partnered with design on comfort and polish, but her merchant eye is locked on emotional and commercial connection. The sweatshirt feels accessible. Every drop doesn’t reinvent the wheel — the pieces are simple. Pretty basic, even. But she wears them first. And that matters. In a world where people buy on trust more than specs, the person wearing the product becomes the pitch.
A colleague recently told me she owns five of the same sweatshirts. I was truly gobsmacked. She didn't buy them for variety (although she swears the fabric is beyond soft and the oversized is spot-on). She bought them because she wanted to emulate the woman behind the brand. That’s personal merchandising at work: when the who behind the product becomes more persuasive than the what. Turning a single sweatshirt into five. Well played.
Influencer culture completely changed the game. The once-coveted roles of retail buyer (hi, Rachel Green) and merchandiser aren’t what they used to be. Yes, I still spot trends, sense demand, shape taste, and time the shipment. But now, my role competes with the feed. Kramer is the brand. Kramer is the content. And the West Village is the campaign. Parke drops aren’t just product launches. It’s lifestyle, aspiration, community, and commerce all rolled into one.



$125 to $140 for a sweatshirt might raise eyebrows, but the strategy works because it feels personal. Followers feel like they’ve grown up with the brand, that they “know” the founder, that they’re part of something bigger. Even when the product is mass-manufactured, the relationship feels bespoke.
A Merchandising Revolution
Influencers everywhere wish they could replicate the Parke playbook. It’s one of the smartest retail models operating right now — modern merchandising done with creator tools and community, no corporate decks in sight.
What makes Parke’s business strategy so striking is how quickly it scaled without traditional infrastructure. No wholesale. No retail footprint. No press machine. Just content, connection, and a deep sense of belonging.
The audience buys doubles. They cry over missed drops. They line up at 5 a.m. to see the pop-up in all its glory (I did too, albeit at sunset).
The impact is undeniable — and it’s only getting louder.
Parke’s frenzy. The West Village’s curated perfection. Different tactics, same retail truth: belonging sells.
For merchandisers, the West Village is the moodboard brought to life. And Parke is the case study in consumer obsession.
It was never about the sweatshirt.
Or the neighborhood.
It’s about social currency. Recognition. Being seen.
Good product doesn’t sell itself anymore — it needs emotional tinder to spark a revolution.
I’ll be in Brazil next week, so Musings is taking a quick hiatus. I’ll be back soon with a fresh take on the trip. Stay tuned.
This hit hard in the best way. So much of product work lives in the tension between meaning and movement — you captured that perfectly. And yes… it’s always about the sweatshirt.
Have a safe and wonderful trip to Brazil!
So good! 💖