The answer is likely both. In an era of over-production and endless consumption, Grossman has inverted the model. By making the website intentionally difficult, ugly, and unreliable, he has created the ultimate luxury good: exclusivity born from frustration.
The website is the only gateway. There is no newsletter. There is no "notify me when back in stock." You simply have to refresh the page at 3:17 AM on a Tuesday, or whenever Grossman feels like it. When a drop is live, the website transforms. The blank page suddenly displays a grid of items, prices (usually between $80 and $400 for a hoodie), and a checkout button that works for exactly seven minutes before the inventory vanishes. steezy grossman website
To own a piece from the Steezy Grossman website is to own a badge of digital suffering. It says, "I was there at 4:00 AM. I watched the site crash. I typed my credit card number into a plain text field. And I won." You cannot find the Steezy Grossman website via Google search engine optimization. It refuses to rank. It refuses to be understood. You have to hear about it from a friend, or find a crumpled sticker on a bus stop that has a QR code leading to a 404 error that eventually, after three redirects, takes you to the homepage. The answer is likely both