Paul Frank, DUB Magazine, Issue 23
You've no doubt seen it on everything from wallets to t-shirts, maybe even on your girlfriend: that funny looking, wide-mouthed monkey face smirking like he knows something you don't. What sort of mind creates a character so simple and goofily offbeat that it grows into a $40 million a year company? Look no further than Paul Frank, a guy in his thirties who is so in touch with his inner 5-year old that he pleads, earnestly, "Grownups are yucky. Why grow up and wear a suit to work every day? What fun is that?"

Light years away from focus groups and bottom-line corporate mentality, Paul Frank Industries is an independently run clothing and accessories company that began eight years ago in the bohemian city of Huntington Beach when Paul Frank met Ryan Heuser. Frank, who was attempting to customize his Converse sneakers with automotive vinyl, ended up making wallets, which he gave away to friends. "We were talking about voids in the market, things we weren't seeing," recalls Heuser, who saw commercial potential in the funky wallets Frank was fabricating by hand. When Heuser started doing PR for Mossimo, he helped Frank by placing the colorful wallets at his girlfriend's salon, where they quickly sold out.

The most mind-bendingly brilliant ideas often don't go anywhere without a solid business plan, and Frank and Heuser's grassroots company took a major turn when they met John Oswald, an ex-venture capitalist: "[I was] the final piece that made the puzzle work," says Oswald. "When I met them, they had a lot of passion, but no understanding of finances, accounting, sales, or basic operations; they had five bucks in their checking account." Oswald's business smarts were exactly what they needed; he invested $8,000 in the fledgling company and worked for free for a year. When business picked up steam, Heuser quit his job at Mossimo and risked his mortgage on the man who made the funny-looking monkey products. Heuser now refers to the triumvirate's style as a "triangle offense", a fitting comparison to the Lakers strategy that maximizes the specialized skills of three leaders.

In 1998, the trio went to the MAGIC trade show in Vegas, where their products were so well received that by the end of the show, they wrote $500,000 worth of orders. Though delivering on those orders was an entirely different challenge, Paul Frank Industries was on its way to eight continuous years of growth.

The x-factor that distinguishes Paul Frank is the authenticity of its designs. By continually expanding upon the characters that he created back in the day, Paul Frank and his dozen or so designers produce roughly 1,600 items per year that are distributed in stores like Urban Outfitters, Pacific Sunwear, and Nordstrom.

Paul Frank's voracious creative vision is inspired by everything from architecture to music, including Velvet Underground and Elvis. His personal aesthetic is also a direct product of childhood memories such as the colors of his grade school (orange, marigold, and light blue) and the military patterns he saw on planes at airshows as a kid.

Aspects of Frank's personality and mood grow into anthropomorphic characters like Skurvy the skull and crossbones (a "bitter old pirate guy"), Clancy the giraffe, and, of course, Julius the monkey. "You can't make that stuff up at a board meeting", he explains, adding, "I try to make all my characters look like they came from the same genetic background. It kinda makes sense, right?" Frank has even bigger plans for his menagerie of whimsical characters, as what started out as webisodes on the Paul Frank website may become a feature film project with a major studio in the near future.

The diversity of the three partners' styles is reflected in their automotive tastes. Ryan Heuser explains that his rides speak volumes about his personality, adding, "I'm not a big bling guy," pointing to his BMW 745Li, Range Rover, and pristinely restored, 1964 Triumph Bonneville. The blacked out Bimmer's sophisticated style is enhanced with 20" rims, while his Rover is slightly showier, sitting on stock, chromed 20" rims, and outfitted with numerous monitors, an iPod interface, and a 10" subwoofer. Rounding out his collection is a black, vintage 650cc Triumph Bonneville he rides almost every Sunday, turning the heads of middle-aged men and punk rock kids alike: "It's like a secret society club of mutual respect for all things well done, regardless of when they were made." As for the future of Heuser's cars, he has his sights on the Bentley Continental GT which- for the same price as a top of the line Mercedes-Benz- he describes as a whole other level of mystique. "I'm not there yet," he says, "but I'm getting there".

Financial guru John Oswald's appreciation for cars started with his high school detailing business. Not only was it a way to make $300 a day and party all night, but it also heightened his awareness for certain details that enhance the appearance of cars. For instance, Oswald's understated Range Rover is blacked out and devoid of any badging, creating a clean look that emphasizes the car's sleek lines. Incidentally, Oswald started putting black wheels on a black cars "because it was different," and- based on the parking lot at the company headquarters in Costa Mesa- the trend has trickled down to many Paul Frank employees. Oswald's other ride is a blacked out Porsche 911 Carrera 4S, which holds a special significance for him, as it was his and his late father's dream car for many years: "He passed away when I was 14, and he was never able to achieve [buying] it, so I bought it for both of us. I have it because it means something more personal to me." While the car holds sentimental value for Oswald, he also loves the way it drives. Though he admits it's a shame to drown out the mechanical sounds of the Porsche's flat-six boxer engine, he's installed a "really sick system" so he can blast some of his favorites, which include Alice in Chains and Tool.

Paul Frank's car sensibilities are, like his designs, rooted in the most basic aspects of form. Though his only modern indulgence is a mostly stock Cadillac Escalade, he approaches car collecting with a discipline towards definitively unshowy, but certainly not undistinctive rides. While he can afford an array of iconically chromed '64 Impalas, he has chosen to focus his collection on a dozen less glamorous models like the Chevy Biscayne, which he describes as the "old lady version of the Impala". His obsession with all things ancient and unassuming means that his classic cars must have their original steel wheels and hub caps, the polar opposite of the current chrome-obsessed, spinner-driven trend. Frank's car audio preferences are similarly pre-historic: while the 9-speaker, factory issue stereo in his Escalade is loud enough and produces a wide dynamic range of frequencies with excellent spatial dispersion, he delights in the fact that the single-speaker systems in his old cars create a completely different sonic landscape, enabling him to hear instruments he didn't know existed and forcing him to focus on less obvious aspects of the music .

The trio repeatedly state that they're not into bling, an assertion that appears to be emphasized because they're talking to DUB Magazine. Though DUB style may appear to be light years away from the Paul Frank sensibility, the qualification is actually unnecessary, as the two companies share a common goal. For the record, DUB style is not just about bling, and it's not limited to spinners or tricked out Benzes or even DUB Edition Chrysler 300Cs. It's about your ride being personalized, something that distinguishes you from the status quo, regardless of the flavor of your individual style. When it comes to separating yourself from the masses, chrome spinners serve the same purpose as a bone stock, 1963 Chevy Biscayne with a primer paint job: they both define their owner's concept of what is cool, they both stand out in a crowd, and they both put smiles on their owners' faces. How cool is that?
Basem Wasef
info@basemwasef.com
323.791.8560