A fashionable proposal that may fit the T
My friend Jake, who lives in Brooklyn, N.Y., loves to wear his black T-shirt with a red and white circle that shows off the New York City Subway's 3-train. It's understated, with "Harlem to Brooklyn" written cleanly underneath the red circle.
Jake considered the purchase for a while, wanting to choose a line that projected the finer points of his identity and one that he actually uses. Jake isn't nearly as cool as the shirt suggests, but he genuinely feels like it when he wears it.
Walk around New York and you're bound to see thousands of people in subway clothes: little children wearing the line that corresponds with their age; teenagers in sweat shirts bearing the lettered line, such as the F train, that matches their initials; adults with dress shirts sporting $975 gold subway token cufflinks or ties with the entire transit map. (OK, I doubt many people actually buy the cufflinks.)
How did public transit become a fashion statement? In the early 1990s, officials at the Metropolitan Transportation Authority realized they owned some iconic logos, brands that have literal street credibility and underground acceptance, along with millions of unknown sentimental stories that riders connect with the ubiquitous subway system.
The logos are "not unlike [those from] the London underground, which has probably one of the most recognizable symbols in the world," said Christopher P. Boylan, deputy executive director for corporate and community affairs at the MTA.
The A-train shirt is particularly popular, thanks, no doubt, to loyal Duke Ellington fans who remember the classic tune. And, of course, some misguided fools embrace shirts that advertise the station called "161 St. - Yankee Stadium."
Over the past two decades, the authority's licensing and sales have become increasingly aggressive. The system expects to have taken in $250,000 in licensing last year - including a deal to put the map on Timberland shoes - and $1.75 million in direct sales at its two museum stores. (About a third of that, however, comes from nonsubway products like Thomas the Tank Engine toys.) Officials said they could not break out how much of it is profit, because the store's operations are tied in with the budget of the New York Transit Museum.
New York officials say they are building pride in the subway and getting some free advertising. "It adds a certain fashion hipness to the MTA," said Gabrielle Shubert, transit museum director.
So what about the Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority, which desperately needs cash and an image boost? It is, after all, the nation's oldest subway line. And there is a song about it. Locals and tourists love to complain about it, but they also love it.
Seems the MBTA tried the New York approach in 2000, citing New York as an example. But the website was slow to catch on and, after six weeks, former Globe columnist Brian McGrory (now my editor), ridiculed the effort, comparing the public relations to Michael Dukakis in a tank.
"Is there another program as stunningly absurd as this, one more symptomatic of an agency's creative and managerial malaise?" McGrory wrote.
Two days after the column ran, then-transportation secretary Kevin Sullivan donated $10,000 in T merchandise to charity and shut down the online store.
"We're in the transit business, not the underwear business," he said at the time.
The T now sells a modest variety of coffee mugs and shirts at the T Underground store at Park Street Station. The T's marketing staff members have asked around, and New York is the only American subway system they could find that turns a profit merchandising, MBTA spokesman Joe Pesaturo said. An online search shows a few other T products for sale, which Pesaturo said are unlicensed.
At the risk of getting this column shut down, I suggest the T reevaluate it. Even people who take pride in maligning the MBTA might wear a well-designed Red Line shirt, a picture of the Mattapan trolley, or a simple black T with a circle around it. And who wouldn't want a sweat shirt that says "Braintree" on it?
A Happy Father's Day sign
Happy Father's Day, Fred D. Cain.
Mr. Cain is a 76-year-old retired car dealer from Wilmington who has spent years trying to get someone to fix the sign on a bridge named for his father, along Route 129 in Wilmington, over the Middlesex canal. Fred F. Cain served in the State Legislature from 1963 until 1977, when he died.
Only one of two signs remains on the Fred F. Cain Bridge, and it's twisted so no one can read it, said his son.
Adam Hurtubise, spokesman for the Massachusetts Executive Office of Transportation, promises to fix it. "We will go out and examine the bridge, examine the signs. If, indeed, there is a sign that's bent or twisted the wrong way, we'll correct that," he said. "If we determine that we require a second sign on the bridge, we'll install one of those as well."
Can't get there ...
Please send complaints, comments, or story ideas to starts@globe.com. The column can be found at boston.com/starts. Globe correspondent Sarah M. Gantz contributed to this report.
