Tired of skimpy pay and long days, a former teacher opens an alternative clothing store. Inspiration? The students, baby.
By JENNIFER LIBERTO
Published June 24, 2004
[Times photo: Kevin White]
With Ozzy Osbourne's picture plastered on a shirt in front of them, Jennifer Clark, 23, shops with her son Daniel, 9 months, at Kaboom, an alternative clothing store. Meanwhile, owner Tammy Hitzemann helps Clark pick out a card at the store, located at 3435 Deltona Blvd. in Spring Hill.
SPRING HILL - Tammy Hitzemann shook off the vestiges of any school marm charm the day after her teaching contract expired at West Hernando Middle School.
The petite, blond English teacher drove herself to Ybor City and got her nose pierced.
Kaboom!
Hitzemann has given up public school teaching to run a rock 'n' roll store, which she named for the outrageous, in-your-face spirit she admired in many of her eighth-grade students when they wore pink miniskirts, boots and purple hair.
"They'd get off the bus, and you're like, what, what? Kaboom!" said Hitzemann, 36, looking urban trendy in a black-and-white plaid miniskirt, red-flip flops and a black tank top.
Kaboom sells goth, punk and rock clothing, jewelry for noses, tongues and bellies, and novelty cards - the types of things that drew her students to malls 30 to 45 minutes away. Her store spans generations, carrying T-shirts and posters that range from Pink Floyd and the Ramones to more modern bands like Evanescence.
If Hitzemann's store succeeds, she'll owe it all to her former eighth-grade students. (But some, too, to her secret investor, husband and Assistant County Attorney Kurt Hitzemann).
The Wisconsin native knew that this year, her second in teaching, would be her last, after she grew frustrated with stingy salaries and long hours meeting federal requirements for English teachers.
Her students convinced her that Spring Hill needed a rock store, an idea that came a close second to their top choice: an underage club. They even crafted persuasive essays for homework that explained how they would attract and sustain such youth-oriented businesses in Spring Hill.
"Everybody wrote that we need more stores for younger people," said Hitzemann, who has also worked as a juvenile probation officer. "I kept hearing: My dad wants a Jimi Hendrix T-shirt and my mom has a belly-button ring, and we have to drive to Gulf View (Square Mall in New Port Richey)."
Her students' suggestions for clothing stock sent her to companies with oddball brand names like Dirtbag, Dragonfly and CBGB. Yet, Hitzemann ended up ordering all of their bestsellers on her first call.
The store opened June 5 at 3435 Deltona Blvd., and already has attracted dozens of teenagers who live within walking or bicycling distance. If allowed to loiter longer, they would spend hours scouring racks of the tiny store, gabbing endlessly about music with Hitzemann who treats them like adults, even when they come penniless to hang out.
"I'm so tired of traveling all the way to the mall," said 14-year-old patron and neighbor Jherika Niedzwiecki, wearing black eyeliner and fishnet gloves. "They're actually friendly here."
Tucked into a strip mall near Delta Woods Park, Kaboom aims to shock. Pictures of the Beatles and Jim Morrison hang next to a nearly naked Janice Joplin. And a few shirts and cards teeter toward pornography, although in jest.
Hitzemann says her customers know what they're getting into when they walk through the door. Ultimately, she wants to give Spring Hill's bored-of-banality, young and old, a reason to shop locally.
"I know Spring Hill is a conservative area, but there's a million stores here for all of them already," said Hitzemann, a classical violinist and one of seven siblings. A brother is an ordained minister and mayor of her hometown of Superior, Wis.
Already she's gaining a reputation for filling a niche. Each week, she ships mail orders to Tampa residents seeking CBGB T-shirts, a brand named for a music club on the lower east side of New York.
When Hitzemann opened her store Wednesday morning she found two teenagers waiting in the parking lot to buy black T-shirts sporting the name of a band called Black Label Society.
Hitzemann hasn't given up teaching entirely. Now lessons focus on introducing teenagers to rock legends like the Grateful Dead and touting the wonders of AC/DC.
"You don't know who this is? How can you not know who this is?" Hitzemann asked two young patrons listening to the music pumped through store speakers a few weeks ago. "It's Joan Armatrading. Joan Armatrading? She's a pioneer!"
