The Dirty Wolverine Presents: Road To Harvard - Bobby From Boston
It’s Friday, April 6th, 2012, the day before an event that I am curating in Cambridge, MA, and the only thing on my mind is making it to the South End of Boston. I check and recheck the route to 19 Thayer St. on my iPhone while waiting at the Harvard Square station for the subway, affectionately referred to as ‘The T’.  Rather than check the picture of the route that appears towards the top of each subway car, I wait until we arrive at the next stop to confirm I’m going in the right direction. I make it a point to cut out any tourist, or “outsider” behavior, and burry my face in my phone like everyone else on the T. I finally reach Broadway Station, and anxiously, but not too anxiously, climb the stairs towards the street. I wait what seems like forever to catch the number 9 bus to Thayer, and am struggling to hide my excitement. Five minutes later, I’m walking through an unidentified parking lot, and having shed the “I’m just another Boston resident, so don’t take advantage of me” attitude, I whip out my camera and begin to shoot. My converse are barely hitting the pavement as I flutter towards what I think is my destination. Parking lot on my right, and what seems to be some sort of large warehouse on my left, I see a door with a banner that reads, “SoWa Vintage Market,” and I know I have to be in the right area. Then I see it! As plain and normal as anything I would have never expected, I see the sign: “Bobby From Boston.” I cut the camera around my neck off, and whip out my iPhone, for a more discrete video shoot. I’d finally reached the place I’d spent countless hours web-stalking, after a phone conversation with Ali, of a Noble Savage. I had called Ali to tell him about my crazy idea to curate a pop-up at Harvard University. He immediately advised me to research and try to get in touch with the Bobby Garnett, owner of Bobby from Boston and a legend in the Antique and collecting world. As soon as I turn the door knob, I can tell that the collector in me is likely to break out into song and dance in honor of some of the best “stuff” I’ve ever seen. Not only are there vintage Levis for days, but rolls and rolls of Levi’s posters from the 1950’s and 60’s! Leather goods, letterman jackets, dress suits, entire walls filled with shoes, neon signs, an antique shoe shine stand, and the list goes on! This shop is easily the incestuous offspring of my father’s collector fantasies and mine. As if my brain needed any more stimuli to process, I spot Bobby sitting peacefully near a large collection of hats, and make my way over to him. I introduce myself, and as we shake hands I notice just how soft his skin is. One might expect a collector of “stuff” to bare the evidence of digging, and picking, and hauling on their hands. Bobby has been doing this for a long time. He sits with a smile on his face, as we discuss my acquiring of the collecting bug from my father, and his passing of knowledge down to his grand children. He is as hip as I can only hope to be one day. Remembering the many tasks remaining on my to do list for the next day’s event, I take my The Dirty Wolverine button off of my sweater, hand it to him, and prepare to leave. He encourages me to place it on his jacket, right next to the button from and old company of his. We pose for a quick picture, and I stand up from the rocking chair I’ve been sitting in for the past few minutes. He asks for a card, and I luckily have one left in my wallet. A man in a trench coat is walking up, asking about props for some movie set. I take that as my cue to leave him to this grand empire that he has built. My trip has been made.

The Dirty Wolverine Presents: Road To Harvard - Bobby From Boston

It’s Friday, April 6th, 2012, the day before an event that I am curating in Cambridge, MA, and the only thing on my mind is making it to the South End of Boston. I check and recheck the route to 19 Thayer St. on my iPhone while waiting at the Harvard Square station for the subway, affectionately referred to as ‘The T’.  Rather than check the picture of the route that appears towards the top of each subway car, I wait until we arrive at the next stop to confirm I’m going in the right direction. I make it a point to cut out any tourist, or “outsider” behavior, and burry my face in my phone like everyone else on the T. I finally reach Broadway Station, and anxiously, but not too anxiously, climb the stairs towards the street. I wait what seems like forever to catch the number 9 bus to Thayer, and am struggling to hide my excitement. Five minutes later, I’m walking through an unidentified parking lot, and having shed the “I’m just another Boston resident, so don’t take advantage of me” attitude, I whip out my camera and begin to shoot. My converse are barely hitting the pavement as I flutter towards what I think is my destination. Parking lot on my right, and what seems to be some sort of large warehouse on my left, I see a door with a banner that reads, “SoWa Vintage Market,” and I know I have to be in the right area. Then I see it! As plain and normal as anything I would have never expected, I see the sign: “Bobby From Boston.” I cut the camera around my neck off, and whip out my iPhone, for a more discrete video shoot. I’d finally reached the place I’d spent countless hours web-stalking, after a phone conversation with Ali, of a Noble Savage. I had called Ali to tell him about my crazy idea to curate a pop-up at Harvard University. He immediately advised me to research and try to get in touch with the Bobby Garnett, owner of Bobby from Boston and a legend in the Antique and collecting world. As soon as I turn the door knob, I can tell that the collector in me is likely to break out into song and dance in honor of some of the best “stuff” I’ve ever seen. Not only are there vintage Levis for days, but rolls and rolls of Levi’s posters from the 1950’s and 60’s! Leather goods, letterman jackets, dress suits, entire walls filled with shoes, neon signs, an antique shoe shine stand, and the list goes on! This shop is easily the incestuous offspring of my father’s collector fantasies and mine. As if my brain needed any more stimuli to process, I spot Bobby sitting peacefully near a large collection of hats, and make my way over to him. I introduce myself, and as we shake hands I notice just how soft his skin is. One might expect a collector of “stuff” to bare the evidence of digging, and picking, and hauling on their hands. Bobby has been doing this for a long time. He sits with a smile on his face, as we discuss my acquiring of the collecting bug from my father, and his passing of knowledge down to his grand children. He is as hip as I can only hope to be one day. Remembering the many tasks remaining on my to do list for the next day’s event, I take my The Dirty Wolverine button off of my sweater, hand it to him, and prepare to leave. He encourages me to place it on his jacket, right next to the button from and old company of his. We pose for a quick picture, and I stand up from the rocking chair I’ve been sitting in for the past few minutes. He asks for a card, and I luckily have one left in my wallet. A man in a trench coat is walking up, asking about props for some movie set. I take that as my cue to leave him to this grand empire that he has built. My trip has been made.

The Dirty Wolverine Presents: Road To Harvard - Bobby From Boston
It’s Friday, April 6th, 2012, the day before an event that I am curating in Cambridge, MA, and the only thing on my mind is making it to the South End of Boston. I check and recheck the route to 19 Thayer St. on my iPhone while waiting at the Harvard Square station for the subway, affectionately referred to as ‘The T’.  Rather than check the picture of the route that appears towards the top of each subway car, I wait until we arrive at the next stop to confirm I’m going in the right direction. I make it a point to cut out any tourist, or “outsider” behavior, and burry my face in my phone like everyone else on the T. I finally reach Broadway Station, and anxiously, but not too anxiously, climb the stairs towards the street. I wait what seems like forever to catch the number 9 bus to Thayer, and am struggling to hide my excitement. Five minutes later, I’m walking through an unidentified parking lot, and having shed the “I’m just another Boston resident, so don’t take advantage of me” attitude, I whip out my camera and begin to shoot. My converse are barely hitting the pavement as I flutter towards what I think is my destination. Parking lot on my right, and what seems to be some sort of large warehouse on my left, I see a door with a banner that reads, “SoWa Vintage Market,” and I know I have to be in the right area. Then I see it! As plain and normal as anything I would have never expected, I see the sign: “Bobby From Boston.” I cut the camera around my neck off, and whip out my iPhone, for a more discrete video shoot. I’d finally reached the place I’d spent countless hours web-stalking, after a phone conversation with Ali, of a Noble Savage. I had called Ali to tell him about my crazy idea to curate a pop-up at Harvard University. He immediately advised me to research and try to get in touch with the Bobby Garnett, owner of Bobby from Boston and a legend in the Antique and collecting world. As soon as I turn the door knob, I can tell that the collector in me is likely to break out into song and dance in honor of some of the best “stuff” I’ve ever seen. Not only are there vintage Levis for days, but rolls and rolls of Levi’s posters from the 1950’s and 60’s! Leather goods, letterman jackets, dress suits, entire walls filled with shoes, neon signs, an antique shoe shine stand, and the list goes on! This shop is easily the incestuous offspring of my father’s collector fantasies and mine. As if my brain needed any more stimuli to process, I spot Bobby sitting peacefully near a large collection of hats, and make my way over to him. I introduce myself, and as we shake hands I notice just how soft his skin is. One might expect a collector of “stuff” to bare the evidence of digging, and picking, and hauling on their hands. Bobby has been doing this for a long time. He sits with a smile on his face, as we discuss my acquiring of the collecting bug from my father, and his passing of knowledge down to his grand children. He is as hip as I can only hope to be one day. Remembering the many tasks remaining on my to do list for the next day’s event, I take my The Dirty Wolverine button off of my sweater, hand it to him, and prepare to leave. He encourages me to place it on his jacket, right next to the button from and old company of his. We pose for a quick picture, and I stand up from the rocking chair I’ve been sitting in for the past few minutes. He asks for a card, and I luckily have one left in my wallet. A man in a trench coat is walking up, asking about props for some movie set. I take that as my cue to leave him to this grand empire that he has built. My trip has been made.

The Dirty Wolverine Presents: Road To Harvard - Bobby From Boston

It’s Friday, April 6th, 2012, the day before an event that I am curating in Cambridge, MA, and the only thing on my mind is making it to the South End of Boston. I check and recheck the route to 19 Thayer St. on my iPhone while waiting at the Harvard Square station for the subway, affectionately referred to as ‘The T’.  Rather than check the picture of the route that appears towards the top of each subway car, I wait until we arrive at the next stop to confirm I’m going in the right direction. I make it a point to cut out any tourist, or “outsider” behavior, and burry my face in my phone like everyone else on the T. I finally reach Broadway Station, and anxiously, but not too anxiously, climb the stairs towards the street. I wait what seems like forever to catch the number 9 bus to Thayer, and am struggling to hide my excitement. Five minutes later, I’m walking through an unidentified parking lot, and having shed the “I’m just another Boston resident, so don’t take advantage of me” attitude, I whip out my camera and begin to shoot. My converse are barely hitting the pavement as I flutter towards what I think is my destination. Parking lot on my right, and what seems to be some sort of large warehouse on my left, I see a door with a banner that reads, “SoWa Vintage Market,” and I know I have to be in the right area. Then I see it! As plain and normal as anything I would have never expected, I see the sign: “Bobby From Boston.” I cut the camera around my neck off, and whip out my iPhone, for a more discrete video shoot. I’d finally reached the place I’d spent countless hours web-stalking, after a phone conversation with Ali, of a Noble Savage. I had called Ali to tell him about my crazy idea to curate a pop-up at Harvard University. He immediately advised me to research and try to get in touch with the Bobby Garnett, owner of Bobby from Boston and a legend in the Antique and collecting world. As soon as I turn the door knob, I can tell that the collector in me is likely to break out into song and dance in honor of some of the best “stuff” I’ve ever seen. Not only are there vintage Levis for days, but rolls and rolls of Levi’s posters from the 1950’s and 60’s! Leather goods, letterman jackets, dress suits, entire walls filled with shoes, neon signs, an antique shoe shine stand, and the list goes on! This shop is easily the incestuous offspring of my father’s collector fantasies and mine. As if my brain needed any more stimuli to process, I spot Bobby sitting peacefully near a large collection of hats, and make my way over to him. I introduce myself, and as we shake hands I notice just how soft his skin is. One might expect a collector of “stuff” to bare the evidence of digging, and picking, and hauling on their hands. Bobby has been doing this for a long time. He sits with a smile on his face, as we discuss my acquiring of the collecting bug from my father, and his passing of knowledge down to his grand children. He is as hip as I can only hope to be one day. Remembering the many tasks remaining on my to do list for the next day’s event, I take my The Dirty Wolverine button off of my sweater, hand it to him, and prepare to leave. He encourages me to place it on his jacket, right next to the button from and old company of his. We pose for a quick picture, and I stand up from the rocking chair I’ve been sitting in for the past few minutes. He asks for a card, and I luckily have one left in my wallet. A man in a trench coat is walking up, asking about props for some movie set. I take that as my cue to leave him to this grand empire that he has built. My trip has been made.

About:

The Dirty Wolverine (TDW) is a creative company whose mission is to tell the stories of our generation and generations past. TDW uses garments to create unique experiences that facilitate learning and storytelling.

Every garment has a story. What’s yours?

For more information about the company visit www.thedirtywolverine.com or email info@thedirtywolverine.com

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