Latest Posts |
In 1984, Marc Milecofsky was a 12-year old boy airbrushing his sweatshirts and hats in the garage of his parents’ Lakewood, N.J., home. Fast forward 23 years, and that same kid, now called Marc Ecko, sits in a studio atop his global headquarters on 23rd Street in Manhattan, with artists on his payroll to do his painting for him. Marc Ecko Enterprises is a billion-dollar corporation that has survived highs and lows so drastic they would give a NASA pilot vertigo. Founded in 1993, the company produced the hip-hop-inspired designs that Gen Xers across the country had been clamoring for. Today the company consists of several apparel lines (including ecko unlimited, eckored, ecko kids, Cut & Sew, Zoo York and Avirex) and two media divisions (Complex magazine and Marc Ecko Entertainment, which develops video games). In addition to his wholesale business, Ecko has 70 retail locations and is aiming for a total of 150 by the end of 2010. The father of three (6, 4 and 2 years old) has also launched philanthropic initiatives to help underserved children in the U.S. and in the Ukraine.
While his parents’ garage in Lakewood is only 50 miles from his Chelsea headquarters, Ecko is in a whole different world. From close calls with bankruptcy and professional missteps to becoming a modern marketing innovator, Ecko is far from where he started. The success of his company, which now employs 2,000 people worldwide, does not rest solely on clever T-shirt designs. Ecko’s innate marketing savvy and relentless efforts to better understand his marketplace are the true drivers of his success.
Ecko, a Rutgers University School of Pharmacy dropout, takes pride in aligning himself with American pop culture. For example, in 2007, he bought the infamous Barry Bonds baseball — the one he hit out of the park to shatter Hank Aaron’s longstanding home-run record — for $750,000. Never one to shy from controversy, Ecko then held an online poll and allowed the public’s votes to decide the fate of the ball. More than 10 million people logged on to Ecko’s site, and the majority voted to put the ball in Cooperstown’s Baseball Hall of Fame with an asterisk symbolizing the widely held belief that Bonds achieved his record with the help of performance-enhancing drugs. Editor-in-chief Robert Levin spoke with Ecko, a direct and “illustrative” communicator, about rescuing his company from near ruin, marketing triumphs and Yoda.
RL: You started ecko unlimited at age 20. How did you get started in the fashion industry?
ME: I had a wide-eyed love for art and illustration, particularly graffiti, growing up. But I couldn’t go to write graffiti on trains since there really weren’t any trains running through Lakewood. The kissing cousin to the aerosol spray paint can was airbrush. So I tried to shine up my illustration chops.
When I got to high school, painting T-shirts was like a self-validation play among my peers because my peers would acknowledge me as “talented.” It all felt good, and it was something I did better than most, and I stood out. I excelled at art versus at academics or athletics.
After graduation, I went to Rutgers College of Pharmacy in 1990, and it really highlighted what I was good at, what I wasn’t good at, and what I was passionate about. In school, I was very average. After class, I would go paint T-shirts and sweatshirts and sell them. I had cash in my pocket all the time and I really fell in love with it. So, in the summer of 1992, I asked my dean [if I could] take a year off, and in 1993 I started my business. I went from painting one T-shirt at a time to screen printing them.
It was a typical do-it-yourself, sell-out-of-the-trunk-of-your-car kind of story. Nothing was really that unique, except for the fact that the line between my adolescent ambitions and my professional ambitions blurred together so completely that it kept a piece of my brain permanently between the ages of 16 and 22. Those years really shaped my point of view, and it’s pretty much been the core demographic that I’ve emphasized and grown my business on.
RL: How did you go from selling out of the trunk of a car to selling it to the stores?
ME: There were a lot of brands that existed when I was coming up that are no longer around or are still quite small. I remember there was this pressure — [the other young streetwear designers and I] all felt like we were presenting something that was unique. There was a lifestyle, sub- or counterculture fashion that emerged 20 years prior, and we were the second wave of that — the streetwear wave. I was fortunate to be there at a time in the market where we were all new and young, and we felt like we were part of a movement. But the difference between me and a lot of my peers was that I didn’t limit my ambitions to the group’s ambitions. I wasn’t a groupthink guy. I wanted to go for it all.
Robert Levin is the Editor-in-Chief and Publisher of The New York Enterprise Report. Levin has extensive experience with midsize and small businesses, having previously held CEO, CFO, and COO positions with companies in several industries. He can be reached at rlevin@nyreport.com and (212) 307-6760.

