6. Fashioning Self, Battling Society

EMERY PETCHAUER & ANTONIO GARRISON

6. FASHIONING SELF, BATTLING SOCIETY

Hip-Hop Graffiti Jackets as a Method of Positive Identity Development

In 2010, a notable controversy occurred within the global Hip Hop community. The controversy did not involve popular rappers such as Jay-Z and Nas but rather their parallel figures within the global Hip Hop dance community that thrives around the world today. It involved two of the most visible b-boys from two of the most visible crews concerning one of the most visible items of b-boy and b-girl clothing: the outlaw vest. In an interview with a popular online b-boy radio show, The Super B-Beat Show, YNOT of the Rock Steady Crew implied that some members of the Mighty Zulu Kings, the official b-boy crew of the Universal Zulu Nation, wore the black leather vest—with the crew name sewn in patches on the back—without the proper historical understanding that the fashion item derives from outlaw gang wardrobe of the 1960s. This critique was understood by some, including Alien Ness, the outspoken president of the Mighty Zulu Kings, as a direct act of disrespect. How could someone call into question the official b-boy crew of the oldest and most important Hip-Hop cultural organization in the world? The comment sparked a fiery debate in both face-to-face and online venues about the politics and meaning of Hip- Hop fashion. The idea of “Hip-Hop fashion” likely evokes a constellation images for people depending upon their individual experiences with and exposures to Hip Hop. In a way, these contrasting images are related to which hip-hop people have experienced, however directly or indirectly. For people steeped in commercial media, the term might bring to mind images of sparkling chains hanging around necks, tight clothes hugging the curvature of one’s body, or baggy pants displaying the wearer’s underpants. For people clinging to old school and golden era hip-hop, the notion might evoke images of RUN DMC on stage in black and white Adidas athletic suits and matching shell toe sneakers—all punctuated with a fat gold rope chain. And yet for others, the term might evoke the kind of do-it-yourself b-boy crew shirts with the crew name spelled out in old English or Cooper font. As Elena Romero (2012) surveys in Free Stylin’: How Hip-Hop Changed the Fashion Industry, there are also brands that have come directly from hip-hop artists (e.g., Rocawear, Sean John) and brands that did not come from artists but became associated with Hip Hop and expression of one’s affiliation with it and Black culture more broadly (e.g., Cross Colours, FUBU, Ecko).

The specific ways we consider Hip-Hop fashion in this chapter differ from those above in a few ways. First, our considerations can be traced back not only before the trends and brands referenced in the above paragraph, but they can be traced back to the 1960s before the advent of hip-hop itself, and perhaps back to the 1940s outlaw and motorcycle gangs. Second, as suggested in the above paragraph, many images of Hip-Hop fashion have existed as youth culture trends: they are popular for short periods of time among youth and perhaps young adults, and then they go out of style. Our focus in this chapter, on the Hip-Hop graffiti jacket, has not followed this youth style trajectory entirely. While it certainly was a part of Hip Hop when it was a “youth culture,” it has endured as an integral product of “underground” Hip-Hop culture, specifically the culture of b-boys and b-girls.1 An insightful point that Schloss (2009) discusses with the growth of Hip Hop and b-boying over the course of 40 years is relevant here to the kind of fashion that concerns us. Schloss unpacks how hip-hop culture—created for teenagers and by teenagers—contains most of the pursuits that any adolescent would be interested in: “music, dancing, sport, vandalism, fashion, various games and pastimes, art, sexuality, the definition of individual and collective identities, and numerous other activities” (p. 11). We will say much more about identities later in this chapter, but Schloss’ second point is what concerns us here: “Rather than leave these pursuits behind as they entered adulthood, many of these teens simply made them more elaborate and sophisticated as their mentality matured” (p. 11). In this analysis, it is not simply that a youth-oriented trend or pursuit endured over the years wherein the next generation took it up, or it was recycled and reintroduced decades later as a “retro” style. And it is also not simply the case that a generation, as they age, relive their youth by engaging in a nostalgic practice. Rather, the pursuit grew in sophistication and matured as the individual matured. In examining the graffiti jacket through this chapter, we approach it through this trajectory and look to understand how it can be a sophisticated method of positive identity development.

FLYIN’ CUT SLEEVES: HIP-HOP, GANGS, AND OUTLAW STYLES

A major contribution of Jeff Chang’s (2005) seminal Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop: A History of the Hip-Hop Generation was its textured account of the social and political landscape in New York City in the 1960s, the decade before what is called the birth of hip-hop. Chang unpacks how gangs such as the Savage Skulls, Savage Nomads, The Ghetto Brothers, and many others were the youth culture of the era for many young people in the Bronx. Documentary films such as Flyin’ Cut Sleeves (Chalfant, 2009) and 80 Blocks From Tiffany’s (Weis, 1979) illustrate some of the different roles that gangs played in the lives of young people, offering them a sense of social support, opportunities for community service, protection, friendship, and fun. As some gangs maintained clubhouses too, membership could even provide the basic need of physical space. Against the risk of romanticizing gangs of the 1960s