Standing Out in a Sea of Collabs Starts With Story, Just Ask Levi’s
As our 2025 Collaborator of the Year, we spoke with Levi’s Vice President of Merchandising and Design Collaborations, Leo Gamboa, about why the strongest partnerships still begin with story.
Written by Madrell Stinney
Photography by Julian-Edward “Jed” Tongol
This story is a complementary profile to the 2025 Hypebeast100, our annual recognition of the creatives shaping fashion and culture today. Explore the full Hypebeast100 list, award winners, and this year’s Next class of emerging designers here.
In 1853, Levi Strauss, a Bavarian immigrant, set up a dry goods store in San Francisco during the California Gold Rush. It didn’t take long for him to realize the need for clothing built to last. This realization resulted in a partnership with tailor Jacob Davis, where the duo came up with a game-changing idea of adding copper rivets to durable denim. This simple innovation led to the first-ever waist overalls in 1873, which would later evolve into the legendary 501® Jeans.
Over one and a half centuries since, Levi’s has continued to define and refine what denim can be, staying true to its craftsmanship while experimenting at every turn. Today, the brand advances not only through revisiting its past and then looking forward, but through looking outward and toward collaborators who help reimagine what Levi’s can become.
Leading this charge is footwear-collaborator-turned-Levi’s Vice President of Merchandising and Design Collaborations, Leo Gamboa, and the design team he steers. After more than 15 years working in collaboration across industries, Gamboa has developed an instinct for pairing Levi’s with partners who can stretch the brand without distorting it. He has curated a cohort of fashion’s most recognizable names and most elusive cult figures, all offering new vantage points into a house built on durability and purpose. A storyteller at his core, Gamboa views collaboration not as a transactional alignment but as “a dialogue,” one that begins with a simple but revealing question: What’s your Levi’s story?
“Everyone has a Levi’s story.”
Leo Gamboa, Vice President of Merchandising and Design Collaborations
It’s an unexpected entry point, almost disarmingly intimate, but it explains why Levi’s collaborations feel less like deals and more like relationships. “Everyone has a Levi’s story,” Gamboa says. A pair inherited from a grandfather. A 501® worn daily in the studio. The Silver Tab era that shaped a teenager’s worldview. The Levi’s archive is vast, but the memories shared by all who know anything about denim are even larger. To collaborate with Levi’s is, in some small way, to collaborate with one’s own history.
At a moment when collaboration has become one of fashion’s most diluted buzzwords and go-to marketing strategy, Levi’s has recalibrated what meaningful partnership looks like. The brand has brought designers like Kiko Kostadinov, with his cerebral pattern-making and color alchemy, into direct dialogue with archival silhouettes that predate him by decades. It has welcomed Chitose Abe, whose language of deconstruction and reconstruction turns classics into quiet rebellions, and invited her to reimagine the trucker jacket into something hybridized, reversible, and wholly unexpected.
Then there are the partnerships that read like heritage summits. When Levi’s works with Nike, one of the greatest footwear storytellers of our time, or Barbour, whose waxed outerwear has weathered generations, the result is not synergy but exchange. Each brand trades history with the other. Each learns something about material, about aging, about craft.
What makes Levi’s approach special is not the volume of collaborations, nor how quickly sell-through numbers validate the work, but the philosophy behind it: collaboration as a way to evolve without erasing oneself. Gamboa often talks about creating “high-low magic,” his shorthand for assembling an all-star team where each collaborator plays a different position. Nike brings performance logic. Barbour brings textile heritage. Kiko brings engineering. sacai brings silhouette subversion. Together, they expand Levi’s without stretching it thin.
This is why Levi’s can move between worlds so effortlessly. It can speak to runway audiences through sacai one month and to archival purists through Barbour the next. It can produce one of the most scrutinized footwear collaborations of the year with Nike, then shift into a deeply technical exploration of pattern with Kostadinov. The throughline is intention: partnerships chosen not for virality, but for resonance.
And while many brands collaborate to stay relevant, Levi’s collaborates to stay honest. Its partners are invited not to accessorize the brand but to interrogate it and take its 172-year-old DNA, pushing it somewhere new. This year’s projects challenged Levi’s to rethink everything from the way a fabric creases to how a trucker jacket can transform into a blazer without losing its lineage. It is a masterclass in evolution: asking how a brand rooted in permanence can still surprise.
The magic of Levi’s today is the way it holds both scale and soul. The brand has built intentional alliances that empower contemporary fashion’s most respected artisans while giving them access to one of the most storied archives in modern dress. The result is innovation that feels lived-in, and storytelling that feels earned.
Levi’s is our Collaborator of the Year not for the volume of projects it released, but for the discipline behind them. At a time when collaboration often feels transactional, Levi’s treated it as a design practice rooted in intention, research, and storytelling. We spoke with Leo Gamboa, Levi’s Vice President of Merchandising and Design Collaborations, about his approach to collaboration and why the strongest partnerships are built on narrative first, product second.
What was the first collaboration you worked on at Levi’s?
Leo: The first big collaboration was Stüssy for the 501® anniversary. I’d wanted to work with them for many years. They’re one of the most iconic brands in the universe. It was an amazing opportunity to celebrate the 501® .
A smaller early project was with 194 Local, which you’re probably familiar with. They’re very “if you know, you know.”
With sacai, Nike, Barbour all in one year, was there a guiding theme?
Leo: Authenticity is number one. When you look at those three names, they are best in class. Nike for footwear, Barbour for outerwear, and for runway and fashion we can look at Kiko and sacai. They all bring different styles.
From a high-level view, we have a strong mix of partners and consumers we’re targeting. It’s the high-low magic. We’re creating an all-star team. Each collaborator plays a different position and brings a narrative that becomes authentic when our DNAs mesh. Each partner brings a different dialogue. When that meets Levi’s, it’s about how consumers receive it and how we disrupt, energize, and amplify the brand. That is the magic.
Before talking product, is there a question you ask partners?
Leo: Yes. “What’s your Levi’s story?”
We get a lot of opportunities, but we need the right ones. That question always starts things. People share family memories, cultural moments, or a pair they wear every day. That personal connection is the starting point.
For example, Tom Sachs wore a 1947 501® . That became the kickoff for the partnership: how do we lean into that?
What’s your Levi’s story?
Leo: I wore Silver Tabs a lot. Growing up, I wanted big baggy jeans. Whether I was skating or hanging out, that was my go-to.
What do you look for when you’re sourcing Levi’s pieces?
Leo: Coming from footwear, I immersed myself in the secondhand market: flea markets, vintage stores, everything. I’m a maximalist in my office. I have a lot of tchotchkes and I’m a visual person, so I like seeing product around me. At home I’m a minimalist. Nothing on the walls.
The beauty of Levi’s is that you can see a jacket for $250,000 and another for $10. Both are beautiful in different ways. I’ve bought jeans for $1,000 and jeans for $10. I wear both the same. If it fits you perfectly, it’s priceless.
There is beauty in imperfection. Textures, colors, fades, rips. People want things that look aged. Denim gets better with age. Whether it’s a jacket or jeans, the more you wear it, the better it gets. So if you love it, wear it.
Was there a collaboration that shaped how you approach this work?
Leo: I’ve learned so much over my years in collaboration. I’m fifteen years in. Every partner, creative, brand, or musician brings something different. Different personalities, deliveries, aesthetics, and styles. I still learn every time.
One of my favorite moments is when consumers see the first Instagram post. I love the reactions. We challenge ourselves with what the next unexpected conversation will be. Timeless product and new conversations are what we aim for.
Was there a collaboration this year that challenged you the most?
Leo: Nike. There was a lot of pressure. How do you work on one of the greatest shoes ever and deliver a denim interpretation people will love? That was challenging.
But people were excited, and we created energy and impact that felt unexpected. I think we delivered really well. Nothing easy is great. Anything great is going to be hard. The harder you work, the better the product.
What did you learn from working with sacai and Kiko?
Leo: Those two are perfect examples of deconstruct, reconstruct, and reimagine.
With sacai, taking our iconic trucker and implementing Abe’s aesthetic through reversible bombers or blazers is unexpected, yet still true to both brands. That pushes us to evolve while keeping Levi’s history and DNA first.
Kiko is one of my favorite pattern makers and colorists. His work shows inspiration from Levi’s Engineered Jeans and his pattern magic. It brings both worlds together. These collaborations help us evolve, reach new fans, and re-educate people about our history. Levi’s has done everything. We are one of the oldest brands in the world, and sometimes we need to remind people of that.
After so many years, what still excites you about collaborations?
Leo: The first conversation. I still get nervous meeting certain partners for the first time. It’s about having a real dialogue and understanding if it makes sense.
Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. But I still get excited about the ideas. I push the team to create product that lasts ten years. There is so much product in the world. If you buy something from us, we want it to be timeless.
Is there a product from this year you feel deserved more attention?
Leo: There are so many beautiful things. I love them all. But the Barbour jacket was an amazing opportunity. We went to their archive and saw their thought process. Even the wax fabric creates a wear pattern when you crinkle it. People may not realize that. It is similar to denim.
The pleated Bedale takes cues from our trucker jacket. Some people may look at it and think nothing changed, but there are pleats and fabric switches. Certain things may not have received full credit, but the heads know. There is a fine line between over-design and under-design. Virgil said it best. We try to stay on that line.
Where do you think collaboration is going next?
Leo: There are a lot of collaborations in the world right now. I think people are doing less and being more selective.
There will be a focus on unexpected conversations and product stories across different genres. I think the evolution is already happening. People want collaborations to feel special and authentic again. That is what the consumer wants. Authenticity is the most important piece.
What makes a good collaborator?
Leo: First, Levi’s receiving Collaborator of the Year is a testament to the team. Fashion is a team sport. Without the team, there is nothing.
A good collaborator is open to conversation and partnership. It is not a one-way road. If it was, you would just do it yourself. It is about putting two perspectives together to create something better than one person could alone. Shared values, shared perceptions, and shared design. And an idea. Everything starts with an idea.














Photographer
Julian-Edward “jed” Tongol