Lost Journal

Humor Column
by Tim Mollen
May 2, 2010

How Much is that Fat Albert Shirt in the Window?

Journal Entry:  May 1, 1999 (age 30)

I was transfixed.

My friends were halfway down the block before they realized I wasn’t with them.  They walked back to join me in front of a store window. To them, it looked like every other store window in Philadelphia, until they followed my gaze to one item.  The object of my desire was a short-sleeved, polyester shirt, covered with the faces of characters from the children’s TV show Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids.

My 30th birthday is coming up in a few days, and my wife, Amanda, surprised me this weekend with a getaway to the City of Brotherly Love.  We’ve only been married for five months, so we still make a big deal out of every birthday and holiday together.  This time she outdid herself, planning the trip for weeks and keeping the whole thing a surprise.  One of the key elements entailed E-mailing back and forth with friends of mine who have moved to Philadelphia over the years.  Tonight, eight of us had just finished a fantastic dinner at a very nice restaurant, and were on a walking tour of the city’s shopping district when I was visually assaulted by the Albertian garment.

Bill Cosby is from Philly, and the autobiographical cartoon series he created is set there.  Cos apparently licensed a clothing company to design a line of clothes based on the show.  This particular shirt was an explosion of loud colors.  It was the kind of garment that Andrew Lloyd Webber writes musicals about.  It had the added distinction of being louder than the loudest of loud sweaters Mr. Cosby wore on The Cosby Show.  (That takes some doing.)  Looking at it, you could almost hear the pictured characters talking – all at once.  “Rudy, you’re like school in summertime – no class” vied to be heard over “Mudfoot says you don’t have to smoke to be cool.”  Under all this chatter was a gentle, Zen mantra of “Hey, Hey, Heys.”

To humor the birthweek boy, we entered the store en masse.  Once I saw the shirt’s price tag of $80, my enthusiasm for it waned a bit.  But my friends chipped in and bought it for me, which was awesome.  At the cash register, the clerk regarded us with bemusement.  It was explained to me later that the store’s name, FUBU, stands for “For Us By Us.”  I guess the corporate vision of “Us” doesn’t include pasty-faced white boys from upstate New York.

I’ve always wondered whether the term “prejudice” applies when it comes to positive stereotypes.  In this instance, I have a deeply rooted belief that the sharpest dressers in the world are sharp-dressed black men.  Black guys look great in any color, devote some serious time to ironing, and have great taste in shoes.  Any time you see a sharply dressed white man, chances are his wife or mother picked out his outfit for him.  I suspect that Cosby’s choice of sweaters was a purposeful display of empathy for America’s fashion-challenged white dudes.

I have no illusions that I will look sharp in a Fat Albert shirt.  But I like the idea that the most expensive piece of clothing in my wardrobe will be a textile homage to an overweight kid and the friends who hang out with him in a junkyard.

 

© 2010 Tim Mollen

 

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