A celebrity visit can be a major boon to a store's business, so when Maisie Williams stepped into Lexi Oliveri's boutique in Williamsburg, New York last week, the shop owner naturally took a picture with the young star: 

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Audiences are used to seeing Arya Stark on Game of Thrones decked out in skins and fur, covered in dirt and often blood. So seeing Williams dressed in a Kangol hat, a slouchy pair of overalls and an apparent Supreme tee set a specific sector of the style world on fire. 

Why? Because it turns out that Williams' box-logo tee is fake. (You can tell from the size of the logo and the cut of the shirt, neither of which are available on something Supreme has actually released.) Of course, this being the internet and all, a bunch of Supreme disciples—apparently too incensed to pay attention during algebra class—decided to give it to her.

After Oliveri posted the photo on her shop's official Instagram and Facebook page, Supreme purists went in. The response was violent enough to inspire a followup post by Oliveri supporting Williams and her fashion choices. At least one op-ed followed. Most of the original comments are now missing, which probably means that Oliveri deleted them. And good for her. Who needs these kids? But more importantly: Why did this happen?

The fact that anyone was out for Williams' blood is preposterous. It's true that roasting is a precious and longstanding part of streetwear culture. Developing your personal style is mostly an exercise in faking it till you make it—and success is only found through exploration. But in streetwear, the community is all too happy to let you know that you've strayed, turning every wrong move into a punchline. It gives in to the human impulse of creating and chastising The Other, which is crucial to community-building. It limits variation and creates a de facto uniform that makes members feel like they belong.

The fact that anyone was out for Williams' blood is preposterous.

Everyone in streetwear experiences being roasted and either adjusts or doesn't—especially women who dare to enter the space without the inclination to show a lot of skin. (The basic misogyny inherent in this is a can of worms we'll refrain from opening at the moment, but suffice it to say that it is not a good thing.) 

While the Four Pins tweet on the whole situation edged right up to the line, it didn't cross it. The commenters, on the other hand, went too far. It's the difference between laughing and shouting, roasting and burning—and the Supreme loyalists came with pitchforks and torches. 

Burning a girl like Williams is bewildering. She's 19 years old and has spent the better part of the last five years subject to a level of global scrutiny that few women her age (or any age) will ever experience. The fact that these people are willing to take up the fight in the name of a brand they are in no way associated with—other than forking over their money—is laughable. To turn it on a stranger is just sad. Dying on the hill of defending a clothing store is an exercise in madness, and it's one that Williams should be proud to help expose.

If we have any advice for her after a day of dealing with Supreme idolaters, it's something that should be familiar: stick them with the pointy end.

From: Esquire US