Palace, the London brand
Brand note · 4 min
Palace started in 2009 in a basement in South London. Lev Tanju founded it for the Palace Wayward Boys Choir, the skate crew he was already filming. The first run of t-shirts existed because the crew needed something to wear in the videos. The first season of proper product existed because a skateshop in Brighton wanted to carry it. There was no business plan and no investor. The brand backed into being a brand by trying to keep a skate crew filmed.
What made Palace different, very fast, was the language. The hang tags read like overheard pub talk. The product names were irreverent and unprintable. The campaign copy did not try to sell you anything; it tried to make you laugh, and let the buying part happen as a side effect. They borrowed the tri-ferg logo from Penrose's impossible triangle, ran it through a VHS-era jaggedness, and stopped explaining themselves. By 2013 the line was being carried at Dover Street Market. By 2015 the Adidas collab. By 2018 the Reebok one. By 2022, Stella Artois, Calvin Klein, and a Disney series tied to the World Cup.
Most skate brands that get fashion attention either get acquired, get absorbed, or get watered down. Palace did none of those. The brand still drops every Friday at 11am UK time, in limited numbers, with no restocks, mostly because that schedule was set early and they kept it. The Friday drop sells out in seconds. The store on Brewer Street still has the wood paneling. The flagship on Fairfax in Los Angeles still feels like a skateshop with one section that happens to also be a fashion store. The crew is still getting filmed.
The rare trick Palace pulled is that they grew without flattening. Most brands at this scale have a brand-voice committee. Palace still reads like one guy in South London writing copy after a long Tuesday. That voice is the moat. It's why the Adidas tracksuit sells as fast as the deck. It's why the brand is a useful study even if you never plan to sell streetwear: keep the voice that got you into the room, even after the room gets bigger.
For El Segundo, the takeaway is the voice and the cadence. A Friday, every Friday, on time, in limited form. Pick the rhythm and keep it.