Joe and Jada - Ronnie Fieg talks Kith’s GLOBAL expansion, becoming Knicks creative director & BLESSES Joe & Jada with custom kicks (w/ Shawn “Pecas” Costner)

We’re live, loud, and Queens-proud; today it’s the kid who flipped a teenage sneaker grind into Kith, dressed stars and the Knicks, and built his own seat at every table—Ronnie from Queens—plus my brother Sean Pecas; this one’s legendary.

How do you partner with Nike, Adidas, New Balance, and more without anyone getting salty?

I’ve been at this since the stockroom days on Eighth Street; decades of trust let me pitch new materials and color stories that feel true to each brand, so it’s never about playing sides, it’s about making products we’re proud to wear.

I’ve watched you sit with a brand and break down their history, tech, and culture like you built it; that’s why they listen.

I came up when boots ran New York, watched the shift to athletic, and I still carry those corner-to-closet stories—why Timberlands had nicknames, why hustlers wanted New Balance for long nights—so the product tells the life behind it.

When you design a store, what’s the play?

No copy-paste; the city becomes the mood board, and the space matches its energy—so Paris feels Paris, London feels London—and we add hospitality like Kith Treats, Sadelle’s in Paris, or my sandwich bar in LA to make it a full vibe.

We’re all addicted to getting fly; I used to hustle just to cop kicks, and everyone in the mall feels that same itch.

Fashion fuels the culture, but I miss the pre-internet ritual of trying things on and choosing for yourself, so I try to put that feeling back into every release and build-out.

You just built something wild; talk to me about it.

Kith Ivy is a members space built around wellness with a Giorgio Armani spa, an Erewhon juice bar, and paddle courts with Wilson; I fell for paddle in Miami and saw a chance to shape how it looks and feels through apparel and environment.

How’d you end up steering the Knicks’ look?

A City Edition jersey turned into a deeper partnership; now we build full seasonal capsules, host a space in the Garden, and apply real fashion standards—better fabrics, thoughtful construction—so team gear lives beyond the arena.

Do they know you’re the boss when you pop up at the shops, or is it better when they don’t?

I like when the product speaks first; recognition can come after.

You said you had a surprise—what’s up?

We share a love for that linen color story, so I brought pairs tied to our kids-first Kith x Nike project; we dropped youth sizing first on purpose and only seeded a tiny adult run—thirty-six pairs—so parents could match their kids, right in time for Father’s Day.

That’s a dream pair; I’m rocking them the second I leave.

My first Garden game was the ’94 Finals from the cheap seats, so being courtside now and creating for the team feels unreal—and sitting here with you means even more, because that music raised me.

Success hits different when it’s built on loyalty; even when Cleveland tossed me after I’d bought floor seats, the Garden called back with love, and that’s why I salute you out loud, Ronnie—you’re the don of this fashion lane; make some noise for Ronnie and Pecas.