The line between hip commentary and offensiveness is a delicate one for trendy retailers.
By RICK GERSHMAN
Published March 28, 2004
TAMPA - Urban Outfitters' display window conveys nothing more risque than a T-shirt stating "I (heart) Bicycle Messengers and Beer."
A deeper look inside the Centro Ybor store reveals a "Jesus is My Homeboy" T-shirt, which seems unlikely to offend even if its intent is ironic.
But then, to offend people in Ybor City, one typically must go a lot further than selling a T-shirt that proclaims "Voting is For Old People." That's the shirt Urban Outfitters was selling in its stores around the country until complaints poured in that the message promoted voter apathy.
The company said the message was intended as social commentary. But it withdrew the shirt anyway.
Just days ago, West Virginia's governor sent a letter to another clothing retailer - Abercrombie & Fitch - demanding that it stop selling a T-shirt that bears the slogan, "It's All Relative in West Virginia."
A visit to Urban Outfitters' Ybor store on a Saturday afternoon reveals that the line between hip commentary and offensiveness is a delicate one for any trendy retailer to navigate.
On a table just inside the first-floor entrance, a T-shirt for women uses the word "F!*?ing," with the punctuation marks inserted exactly as noted here.
Other T-shirts are less coy. One for women confides, "You say Tomato, I say F--- You." (The shirt is devoid of hyphens.)
Jesus Christ is omnipresent. There is a Jesus Christ action figure on tiny hidden wheels - "with gliding action," the packaging states. Not to be outdone, Pope John Paul II appears on a shirt above the message "The Pope is Dope."
To be fair, most of Urban Outfitters' shirts have messages that could be worn in public anywhere without attracting attention. The edgy T-shirts and merchandise appear to make up less than 5 percent of the inventory.
Your reporter calls the chain's corporate office to get some insight into the company's philosophy, but can't reach a human. So he chats to a few customers outside the store.
Dana Commertin, 20, from Kansas City, shows off her purchases for the day: a text-free baby doll T-shirt and jeans. She's on spring break.
"So, is this going to be in the newspaper?" Commertin asks.
Unless Paris Hilton falls off another horse.
"Wouldn't surprise me."
She has a point. And a few more:
"I don't have a problem with what they sell, (though) I don't do the kitschy T-shirt thing," she said. "But it's stupid that all these critics either don't understand that the (voting) T-shirt was ironic, or they think that the kids who wear it don't understand that it's ironic. But that's not the point."
It's not?
"No, it's not. Have you talked to the company?"
Got a voice mail.
"They won't tell you this, but they knew this would cause a fuss, and that they'd have to pull it. Now they can sit back (and say) "We're so smart, we're so, you know, post-modern, only the kids get us.' And then they sell a lot more stuff. It's smart business."
Any chance you're a marketing major, Dana?
"Pre-med."
Didn't see that coming. Did see Geoff Des Ballant, though. He's hard to miss with the four facial piercings and the Cannibal Corpse T-shirt (it's a metal band). The delivery driver from Lutz is killing time before work. He does have some thoughts on Urban Outfitters' wares, though.
"It's the same c--p you see on bumper stickers, so I don't know why anyone (cares)," he said. "What's (angering) people is seeing their kids wearing it and thinking that's going to erode the fabric of society or something. It's just, I don't know, because it's an election year and there's an agenda to determine how free speech is defined and who can define it."
Huh?
"I just mean," Des Ballant says, turning to Dana Commertin, who also looks completely confused, "you know, if she's wearing one of their shirts, and she's not like me but she's your corporate professional type, but she's wearing a shirt that says, um, what's one of them say?"
Well, there's the one that states "My Boyfriend Won't Care Because He Won't Know."
"Exactly. So she wears that and then what does that mean when she gets to be a mom?"
Des Ballant shrugs and declares his need to use the bathroom.
"What was he talking about?" Commertin asks your reporter.
We move on to Imani Roberts Watson, a 48-year-old communications director whose 16-year-old daughter, Ceia, is browsing inside.
"She's a smart girl; she knows what she's allowed to wear," he says.
Ceia emerges without a purchase. She was just getting ideas for her birthday next month. But her father is curious what those ideas are.
"Did you know they've got all that stuff in there about smoking dope and with the "F' word and all?" he asks.
Taken aback, she struggles out a reply: "Well, um, yeah. Sort of. They've got a lot of stuff."
"You wouldn't wear that. Your friends don't wear that."
"No, but (the store has) cool stuff that's not like that."
Watson takes a second to consider this.
"All right," he says, and smiles. "But I think next time we might just be going to the Gap."
Intrepid Reporter is an occasional feature in which we explore less significant developments in our world.
