Hip-hop revolution now evolution

Bobbin, Sept, 1998 by Jules Abend

Over the decades, African-American designers have made substantial contributions to the apparel industry. The latest, most overt manifestation of their influence is in the high-voltage, raucous hip-hop style that has become part of American youth culture over the past 10 years. The question is: What's next for urban street wear?

We've seen big pants and shirts - and even pants that light up. And it's hard to miss the cryptic names, oversized logos, numbers and emblems on all sorts of clothing. Is all this flash enough to sustain an industry? Even considering what hard-core, callow youth will wear, the answer resonating through the segment is a resounding "no."

Today, far-out hip-hop apparel is going through a transformation: The logos are smaller and tamer, and the look is leaning toward more silhouette- and detail-driven sportswear that appeals to a broader audience.

Where did this evolution begin? According to a trade consensus, the real breakthrough of hip-hop urban wear came about in the late '80s, with the entry of African-American designer Karl Kani's collection for Los Angeles, CA-based Cross Colours, a black-owned apparel business. And Kani wasn't alone. Other young African-American "imagineers" were already on the scene as well, including Dazo Anderson, vice president and head designer of ri:kors, who claims the distinction of being the first urban designer to exhibit in a MAGIC show.

Despite Kani's immediate name success, in the space of a few years, Cross Colours failed. (But Kani is back and in the thick of the urban business again.) Looking back at what went wrong, Jack Herschlag, executive director of the National AssoCiation of Men's Sportswear Buyers (NAMSB), offers: "Kani made a huge splash. It was the first time the industry got excited about a fashion collection that really came out of the black inner-city community. However, Cross Colours grew too fast, took a lot of orders and didn't understand quality control production and normal business procedures. They had a couple of years where they were flying high, and then it all exploded."

Truth be told, although hip-hop style got its jump start from African-American dreaming, and is entwined with popular entertainment, movies, music and TV (MTV and El, for example), today most of the designers are backed by business entrepreneurs to a large degree, for a variety of reasons - lack of capital being paramount.

A good case-in-point about how the business operates is Dazo Anderson. He declares: "I have investors. I'm the one with the designs, and I have a free hand. Designers have to get out of that 'I'm the owner of my company' thing [to be successful]. A lot of them get caught up in that."

NAMSB's Herschlag again: "[Most young designers] don't have the financing. So what happens is, if someone comes along with a hot design idea, very often they get swept up into the business world of other people. It's not a pure black story, and there's no reason it should be because the world doesn't work that way. It's black and white and Asian."

Today, that statement echoes truth. And in addition to African-Americans, white designers have latched on to the urban style, and it has been transmuted by mega-brands Tommy Hilfiger, Ralph Lauren, Calvin Klein and the other big, popular houses and names.

From his perch, Herschlag has seen dramatic changes in the goods labeled hip-hop, observing, "Between a year ago and today, the whole thing has gone completely classic. Whereas the designers used to have logos that covered almost a whole shirt, now, they're more discreet. Or, even if they're on the large side, they're more neatly designed. They're not splashing dripping blood anymore."

Looking at the monikers the lines are given, Herschlag says, "The names, letters and numbers are codes to make people wonder; for example, fubu translated means, 'for you, by you.' The designers don't say 'Smith & Jones Fine Sportswear,' although they may do that someday because that will be the joke."

Despite the trendy lingo associated with the hip-hop generation, which includes "phat" (great); "dialed" (focused); and "zoned" (ditto), among other, even more arcane "in" expressions, it's really all about the language of green, in a turbulent sector where designers are born and die in the wink of an eye.

As one industry participant expresses it, "The resistant, fringe segment is already 14 1/2 minutes into their 15 minutes of fame. Those who come into the market doing 'funky' stuff and make a name realize that to do business with stores that have any distribution, they can't only be 'funky.' They have to establish enough of a range [of product] to do volume."

Los Angeles-based Anderson couldn't agree more that there is a need to change the focus and look of urban wear, particularly among his peers who are striving for longevity and entry into mainstream stores. Not only that, the designer says even the true believers, the kids who wear the clothing, are tired of the old, logo-driven apparel.

The first African-American, non-athlete to design shoes (for K-Swiss) under his name, Anderson stresses, "I know how to make core product, meaning I know how to make stuff for anybody. It's not just black."