Monday, Sep. 16, 1996

H STANDS FOR HILFIGER

By Martha Duffy

In spin language, they call it vision. In the annals of Seventh Avenue, it's known as persistence. Tommy Hilfiger, 45, began in the apparel business peddling jeans, mostly around New York State. In 1984, with backing from Hong Kong tycoon Mohan Murjani, he set up his own shop. Hilfiger led with his chin, with ads in which he compared himself to Ralph Lauren and Calvin Klein. The industry laughed--here was a tyro pushing rip-off designs and affecting to be an immortal. But Hilfiger was dogged. He came to recognize the flair in black street style, recombined it with his preppie instinct and found a niche in fashion no one can laugh at.

If he has anything to do with it, this will be his biggest fall ever. Having built up a $478 million men's clothing and fragrance business, Hilfiger is invading the women's field with a line of casual clothes and a floral fragrance, both called Tommy Girl. Last week Bloomingdale's in Manhattan celebrated with a wall of windows full of well-cut, preppie-style separates, many emblazoned with the Hilfiger logo or a giant H--and that's not for Harvard. The store held an autograph party, as if the designer were Michael Jordan or Luciano Pavarotti. Lean, perky, with his trademark jack-o'-lantern grin in place, Hilfiger was a hit.

More such openings will follow: at Rich's in Atlanta later this month; an entire Tommy week at Macy's in New York City; and at Marshall Field's in Chicago next month. He is also invading the international market, showing Tommy Girl clothes at London's fashion week later this month.

Though he won last year's Menswear Designer of the Year Award, no one mistakes him for a designer in the usual sense. He hires others for that chore and concentrates on image making--not for him the training rigors of the Parsons School (as Donna Karan endured) or the Fashion Institute (Calvin Klein). As a young retailer Hilfiger dreamed of founding an empire like Ralph Lauren's, and he adapted Lauren's strategy of selling a dream instead of a line of clothes. If Lauren offers the charmed world of Scott Fitzgerald to the masses, Hilfiger is selling his own version of preppie, liberally laced with black-hipster fashion.

The breakthrough came in 1992, when Hilfiger's clothes first caught on in a big way with black teenagers. Unlike other designers whose clothes have become inner-city status symbols, Hilfiger reached out to the market, adding urban flair--oversize logos, swagger style--to what had been a fairly conservative line. Says Russell Simmons, the savvy founder of Def Jam Records: "Tommy's clothing represents the American Dream to black kids. They're not interested in buying holey jeans; they want high-quality merchandise." They also like bulk. While the rest of fashion is pushing a lean look, Hilfiger shows baggy jeans and definitive tops. In March 1994, Snoop Doggy Dogg, then in the headlines for a murder indictment as well as his rap music, appeared on Saturday Night Live wearing a grand jersey festooned with the logo. The market exploded. Sales jumped $93 million the following year.

Hilfiger hopes the same luck will light on the women's line. Early indications are that it will. He has lined up celebrity-centered models like rapper Spinderella and Quincy Jones' daughter Kidada to help introduce it. A selling point is the bright, basic colors. Hilfiger never approved of Armani's dark palette that has dominated high fashion for the past 15 years. For his inaugural collection he has bright plaids, smart tops and sweaters, plus a few special numbers like a pretty, light quilted coat. At Bloomingdale's the young shoppers loved it. Erika Cohill, a student at Nassau Community College, got straight to the point: she likes her white turtleneck "because it's got the Hilfiger flag on it."

The women's line rang up $45 million in sales after the national buyers' first look in June. Hilfiger is a marketing virtuoso. His lines are not beyond a kid's reach; the Tommy Girl line is all under $200, and many pieces are less than $50. Better yet, a store buys the Tommy genius with the garments. Says fashion consultant Tom Logan: "He knows how to market a concept as very few do. His is a brand kids want to be seen in, and it is presented exactly right." Add to that the heavy advertising support, and what more can a cash register ask for?

--Reported by David E. Thigpen/New York

With reporting by David E. Thigpen/New York