What Happened to the NFL's Most Powerful 90s Marketing Tool, The Starter Jacket?
The SuperBowl is on Sunday and NYFW is upon us, and I just want to reminisce about a much simpler, albeit more...colorful time in my life, ok?
This Sunday is Superbowl 57 (or Superbowl LVII, because, for some reason, the only time Americans understand Roman numerals is for this game); you and I both know Queen Rih making her return to the stage is the main attraction, but I’ve recently started thinking a lot about Starter jackets.
Yes, Starter jackets.
If you’re a millennial or the parent of a millennial, or were just a professional sports fan in the 90s, you remember Starter jackets. Made of a thin satin, the uber-popular kangaroo pouch pull-over version was one of the original hype beast status symbols 90s. Bright team colors, partnered with the undeniable silver star logo, and topped with the undeniable swoosh-y sound the sleeves made every time you moved your arms. Starter jackets showed people not only who you supported but that you had the money and style to support them.
I would even wager that before Jordans, Rick Owens and other, more expensive streetwear took hold, the Starter jacket was one of the handful of items in the “I’m cooler than you” starter pack.
How did such an average piece of clothing come to signify your place in the playground and street-style social hierarchy?
“Starter” is the Name of a Company—So I Learned Something New Today
The company behind these jackets was called “Starter,” hence “Starter Jackets.” And before you ask, no, I did not know that. Starter (named thusly because everyone wants to be a starter on their respective team) was founded in 1971 by Hamden, Connecticut native David Beckerman, where he played both high school and college basketball. After graduating, Beckerman went into the windbreaker business (yes, such a thing exists) at a local sports apparel retailer. Five years later, Beckerman used his own life savings and struck out on his own, first selling his satin jackets to bowling and softball teams. It could have ended there, with Starter being a run-of-the-mill mid-tier regional manufacturer, but Starter wasn’t just some regular sportswear company—Beckerman was a bit of a pioneer.
Starter was the first sportswear company to put a logo on the back of baseball caps (apparently, they did it even before the MLB). They were also the first company to market an official locker room hat and t-shirt. Before Starter, sports leagues were not aggressively marketing fashionable athletic apparel to adults, a niche Beckerman quickly filled.
From Starter to Winner—The Rise of an Athletic and Cultural Icon
Being an innovator paid off; by the end of the 1970s, Starter had licensing agreements with several professional sports leagues. The company paid eight to ten percent royalties to manufacture and market copies of professional athletic apparel. Major League Baseball was the first league to take notice in 1976, thanks to the New York Mets, the first professional team to wear Starter items.
By the early 1980s, Starter had contracts with almost every major American sports league: along with MLB, they worked with the NBA, NFL and the NHL (also the CFL—Canadian Football League). Given the symbiotic nature of music, sports and fashion, it was just a matter of time before Starter caught the eye of musicians, who, in turn, influenced their fans to seek to own their own fashionable sports apparel.
By the early 1990s, Starter jackets, with their recognizable silver star logo and bright team-themed colorways, were hot items, even outside of the athletes who donned them court- and field-side. They were streetwear—and, as with many trends, hip-hop was one of the driving forces.
In the 90s, hip-hop and the “urban” look emerged as a huge trend. Even Chanel had a so-called “hip-hop collection” (Fall 1991), and along with a few other brands, had already seen the writing on the wall: hip-hop was more than music, it was a culture, and people wanted to emulate that culture:
“The first inkling of today’s barrage of rapper/sneaker brand collaborations occurred in 1986, when adidas signed Run-D.M.C. to a $1 million endorsement deal that included a signature line for the group”- Highsnobiety, “How Hip Hop Left a Lasting Influence on Streetwear & Fashion.”
And like Adidas, Starter wasn’t afraid to lean into the “urban” influencer. For example, in 1993, the company paired DJ Jazzy Jeff with veteran actor Rodney Dangerfield in a television advertisement about the “proper” way to break in and wear your Starter cap. The brand also had print and TV ads with other popular celebrities and athletes like Brook Shields, Reggie Jackson and Malcolm-Jamal Warner (both Jazzy Jeff and Warner were on a hit TV series at the time, “The Fresh Prince of Belair” and “The Bill Cosby Show,” respectfully.)
Starter was so popular that eventually, athletic juggernaut Nike came knocking. In 1992, then-CEO Phil Knight reportedly expressed interest in purchasing the company. Beckerman said no and instead took Starter public, retaining 65% control of the massively popular brand.
Starter, and their well-known silver star logo, was everywhere; a status symbol that doubled as a way to rep your favorite team.
That “star” (pun intended…you know, because of the star logo) took straight off into the stratosphere; for a while, anyway.
Crime, Corporate Greed, and a Few Lockouts
For a few years, Starter held a particularly advantageous position. Despite having above-average prices, they could consistently post high sales numbers and keep their many partners, fans, and shareholders happy.
And then the mid-90s happened.
On August 12, 1994, the MLB went on strike. The ensuing work stoppage ended up being the longest strike in Major League Baseball history, resulting in the cancellation of the remainder of the 1994-95 season, all post-season games AND the World Series. Following in quick succession was the 1994-95 NHL lockout. Two leagues out of the four major leagues were out of the running for months. On top of that, some teams wanted a higher cut for Starter using their likeness on the hot-selling merch. Beckerman shared that he was paying 15% royalties for select items at one point.
A wave of fashion-related crime didn’t help.
In the mid-90s, several adolescents were targeted and sometimes murdered, for their pricey Starter jackets and Nike Air Jordan sneakers. On March 4, 1990, 15-year-old Darius Lamont was shot when an assailant attempted to steal a Philadelphia Eagle’s Starter jacket the teen was wearing. Lamont sadly died ten hours later from his wounds. This was one of several incidents reported across the country. In time, law enforcement began warning parents away from purchasing the pricey jackets for their children:
"I tell parents that I wouldn't buy one for my child because of the fact — why put a target on your kid?" he said. "Why make your kid a victim? Buy him a nice coat, but it doesn't have to be a Starter jacket or a sports team jacket."- Former Northeast Philadelphia Polie Division Inspector, Robert Levins
It’s important to note that oftentimes, media and law enforcement are not always 100% objective and can give in to sensationalism. Many of the stories reported about Air Jordans and Starter jackets zeroed in on Black and Latinx communities. In a 1994 “Sports Illustrated” story, Nike’s then-public relations director Liz Dolan summed it up perfectly, “What's baffling to us is how easily people accept the assumption that black youth is an unruly mob that will do anything to get its hands on what it wants.”
The bad publicity certainly didn’t help; but blaming a spat of incidents across the country on the downfall of a multi-million dollar company is silly. For various reasons, including heavy borrowing to finance expansion and production, the company filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy in 1999.
Everyone Who Likes the NFL is Old Now
With Superbowl in just a few days, I’ve been reflecting on what’s going on with the league (from an outsider’s perspective, I’ve never really been a sports ball fan). The National Football League of the Starter jacket’s golden heydey is long gone. For one thing, the wholesome player of yesteryear is gone; the league is plagued by incidences of domestic violence at the hands of its players. Several players have been repeatedly accused of sexual assault (ahem, Ben Roethlisberger), but too often, they receive light punishments from the NFL or none at all.
There’s also ongoing tension (to put it lightly) with the league’s handling of Chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE). Research suggests that the problem is widespread: a recent Boston University study found CTE in 92% of former NFL players. Advocates and medical professionals say the league doesn't do enough, or hell, anything, to help prevent new cases of CTE or take care of retired players with the condition.
Then there are lingering feelings over Colin Kaepernick and other racially-fueled incidents. In short, the league has had a rough couple of years. Conservatives may call it “woke,” but millennials and Gen Z seem to be a bit more interested in not supporting a professional league that’s racist, causes long-term harm to its players, and allows violent abusers to continue to suit up on any given Sunday...IMHO.
Which makes me wonder if that’s why NFL fans are getting older: statistics show that “avid fans” of the sport are at least 35 years old.
And, yes, live TV viewership across the board is losing millennials and Gen Z, but the average age for the SuperBowl viewers is almost 50 now. Back in my day (*immediately sprouts 19 grey nose hairs*), NFL fans were young and so flashy fashionable Starter jackets made sense. Even young people who weren’t fans would at least pretend to care about their hometown NFL team. But these days? The kids don’t seem to be into it.
So, despite several attempts to revive the brand, it looks like Starter will remain firmly in our rearview mirror. A distant reminder of life before Instagram, bills and the crushing feeling of an unsure future. But we can still reminisce—about a time when a colorful jacket, team insignia emblazoned across our chests, stomachs and sleeves, with a snazzy silver star zipper, was enough to show that you were a cool kid, a fashion icon, and an avid sports fan—all at the same time.
That you were, indeed, a starter.