12ozProphet

So while sipping sangria in Barcelona I get a call from my wife, Christy, about how Supreme has gone out and plastered Kermit the frog all over the neighborhood, and how that in turn has caused my son August to scream in delightful hysterics on each and every sighting. Upon getting back into town I get the last weeks worth of updates which includes confirmation that Supreme, has in fact, gotten Terry Richardson to photograph their latest mascot to sport the iconic box logo shirt and that mascot, is in fact the famously green Muppet. So I’m now forced into figuring out how I’m going to approach James Jebbia, the owner of Supreme, about scoring one and wonder if I shouldn’t instead send my two year old son over to his office to beg him for one personally. After all, by my reasoning it’s sort of James’ fault that I’m in this dilemma in the first place. Still somewhat embarrassed about how I’m going to field this request to James, and hesitant to squander a favor from him, I postpone the prerequisite phone call and instead reach out to my good friend Liz who works at their offices. On short notice, and while interrupting work that I’m sure was far more pressing, Liz walks a couple offices over to my other friend West, who currently sits as Supreme’s Brand Director, and manages to sneak a couple of the posters out of the remaining stock set aside for archive. By this time I’m already in the neighborhood, family in tow, so I swing by the Supreme offices to pick up my son’s prize. I give quick thanks to Liz, who’s obviously still very busy, talk to West for a few moments (and promise him my next born if he can set aside an XL version of the t-shirt when they come in), and head out the door already concerned about how much of a disruption I’ve caused during this process. Somewhere between the Supreme offices and the Centre Street station to the JMZ train we’re planning to take back into Brooklyn, I promise my wife Starbucks. As if by miracle, and certainly with the spirit of Jim Henson himself looking over us, we run into none other then Terry Richardson hanging out having a latte in the first Starbucks we come across en route to the train! Nice guy that he is, Terry graciously personalizes one of the posters for my son, and likewise, August doesn’t seem to mind having this stranger write on his new Kermit the frog poster. After a few laughs, we all say our goodbyes and now the whole family (or at least Christy and I) are walking home amazed about how completely awesome it all came together. Kermit now smiles down from the wall high above August’s bed until I can figure out a way to sneak him back out of the house for a few days to get framed.

A special thanks to Liz for her patience and understanding, to West for his generosity in sneaking a few of these posters out of archive and to Terry for being such a good sport. Congratulations to James for yet another job well done.