The author and publisher have provided this e-book to you for your personal use only. You may not make this e-book publicly available in any way. Copyright infringement is against the law. If you believe the copy of this e-book you are reading infringes on the authors copyright, please notify the publisher at: us.macmillanusa.com/piracy.
O N THE MORNING I wrapped my proposal for this book, I sat in the pews of a Baptist church east of downtown Los Angeles. I wore my black suit and kept my head above the stagnant air. The 10 freeway reverberated overhead, doling out the yammer of a jittery city. Even on a Saturday morning, L.A. had no time to pause for young Jimmy Briggs, who lay flat and motionless in the casket at the pulpit. His dad, the charismatic preacher Bishop Campbell, stood over him. He called on God to sort out this misunderstanding. The congregants, although taken by his heartache, were callous to the circumstances of Jimmys death. A couple of Black Panthers stood and called for vindication. A mother wept. Here lay another young black man, gunned down at twenty-one while running away from the cops.
I watched Jimmy grow up on my shops doorstep. He was a dark-skinned, handsome kid always wearing baggy pants and a flashy smile. He loved skateboarding, and he loved The Hundreds. So, we put him onto the program: keep skating and well keep you dressed. The funeral attendees see this arrangement play out in Jimmys slideshow. Hes wearing our brand across his back in almost every photographeven on the programs cover. The photocopiers ink coagulates around this portrait of Jimmy crouching down, proudly sporting one of our tees.
For Jimmy, and for so many others around the world like him, our brand has stood for more than T-shirts, stylish caps, and warm jackets. Fashion revolves around art, design, and trends, while clothing is rooted in sales, marketing, and necessity. The Hundreds, however, is powered by culture and community. We like to say, People over Product. Its like your favorite music artist: you download the album, go to the show, and take home the tour merch to identify yourself with the musicians art and attitude. With us, you visit our shop, you fraternize with our followers, and you wear our logos to profess that youre down with the lifestyle. Its bigger and deeper than a gang. The Hundreds is backed by a global army. Thats why were The Hundreds, as in strength in numbers.
It used to weird me out that kids would tattoo our logos and designs on their bodies. I felt responsible, pressured to not let them down. Prominent rappers like YG and Travis Scott have the Adam Bomb mascot drilled into their arms. Why? Ive never met these people; our lives are worlds apart. But our brand is a reflection of our lifestyle, and our lifestyle is why weve flourished. Our customers feel a sense of ownership with The Hundreds, and if they believe weve sold out or feel were making off-brand moves, the backlash can be sharp and unforgiving. The Hundreds has come to represent chapters in young peoples lives. For some, its the entire story. Those tattoos signify milestones. Those clothes are war medals.
Jimmy appreciated this. Im a good kid, he told me one afternoon after another of his long stints in jail. I just get caught up sometimes with the wrong crowd. The Hundreds Los Angeles flagship store on Rosewood Avenue was his haven, a respite from the clamor of life in South Central. Everyone called him RSWD Jimmy, and I like to think he adopted our Rosewood crew, not the other way around. We didnt have a vote in the matter.
I owe this book to Jimmy and to everyone whos loved and lived our brand along the way. As much as it is my story, it is inextricably theirs as well. Were all in this together.
F UCK YOU AND your weak brand!
His name is Derek. From what I can see in his profile pic, hes not quite twenty with mangy blond curls and a sharp nose. He looks as if he could be a stony surfer from Topanga, a portly Spicoli. But according to his bio, Derek is landlocked in northern Ohio. I caught him in my Twitter replies, fastening together a chain of insults against my brand. Hed started off tweeting about how The Hundreds used to be cool and eventually sank to cheap taunts and lazy expletives.
Nobody wears this trash. Why dont u just die already?
By the time I saw Dereks spew bubble up on my feed, I was sitting in traffic on my commute home from Vernon to Venice. It had been a long day, the sort that mercilessly takes and takes. And here was this snot-nosed teenager burrowing into my scalp. I typically let abuse like this wash over me and dissipate; theyre just thoughts, really. Thoughts come and go.
But not today.
I fired back: Even a small dog can piss on a big building. Then I hit select all, deleted, and rethought my approach.
Hi Derek. Whats wrong, dude?
It was as if somebody had turned off the faucet. Crickets. I got home, ate dinner, and worked from the couch. Occasionally, Id check my mentions to see if Derek had rebutted with a goofy meme or let loose a tirade against me. Nothing.
Near midnight, a red notification blipped across my screen, the echo of a stars explosion that took hours traveling from a distant galaxy.
Didnt think youd respond. Just having a bad day.
No problem. Me too.
Rrrrright. Youre rich.
I mean, we all have our thing. I got a production order of pants back from our factory today, but all the tags were mislabeled. We had to fix them ourselves. Took six of our guys twelve hours, cutting and sewing such a nightmare.
Yeah? Well, I think Im gonna fail school and my mom is threatening to kick me out. I cant even find a job that I like in my town. Dont really know where to go.
Thats rough. What would your ideal job be?
My wife, Misa, walked into the room and plopped down next to me. She teased, Who are you talking to? Another one of your internet fans? Shed noticed that Id stopped paying attention to the TV and was hunched over my phone.
Some kid in Ohio. Hes having a hard one.
Youre so weird, she said, smiling, then retired upstairs for the night as Netflix droned into the background. For the next twenty or thirty minutes, Derek and I volleyed our daily frustrations back and forth. This eventually segued into a discussion about streetwear and fashion.
So, whats bothering you about The Hundreds?
I dunno. I used to feel like it was really special. But now its sold everywhere, and everybody in my school is wearing it. And its not just your brand, its streetwear in general. All these bandwagoners dont even get what its about and it pisses me off. It was my thing.
I logged on to The Hundreds Instagram account. Wed been hyping up a big collaboration with adidas, and I watched my comments sizzle with positive emojis and friends tagging each otherthe digital equivalent of a high five. Cool, fashionable kids from around the world were checking in. Indonesia, Norway, Mexico City, andDerek was righteven Ohio. Yet when my partner, Ben, and I first formed the idea of a fun storytelling project, it never occurred to us that The Hundreds would become a globally recognized streetwear label, grow this big, and be sustained for this long.