BOBBY HUNDREDS
streetwear without culture is just fashion. 

At this point, basically everything that was once sacred to your very own socialization has been marketed and exploited. What was once considered niche is now bigger than anyone could’ve ever imagined, and what was once a carefully and consciously built clear distinction with very visible boundaries has turned into a billion dollar industry to feed the mainstream’s sense of belonging. And there is actually nothing wrong with that. Streetwear in particular has gone through some rather drastic changes within the last twenty years: what once started as a juvenile insurgence fuelled by punk, hip-hop and skateboarding against established visual formulas now enjoys the fine dining experience with Europe’s traditional fashion houses. So far, there hasn’t been a documentary on this elusive phenomenon, but now famed designer/photographer/ writer and illustrator Bobby Hundreds - or Bobby Kim to his parents - has taken up the director’s chair to change that. He co-directed “Built To Fail“ together with Scott Weintrob and Alexis Spraic, and the doc luckily isn’t trying to deliver the complete picture, as it is much more interested  in exploring personal stories - including interviews with Rick Klotz, Eli Bonerz, Stash & Futura and Tommy Hilfiger to name just as few - and how small beginnings can have big endings, indeed. “Built To Fail“ had its world premiere at the LA Film Festival in June. Bobby took a quick break from working on a new book that’s going to be published by FSG  in order to give Lodown the tour through his directorial debut.

Bobby, to start with, please tell me a bit about the early stages of “Built To Fail“... what triggered the idea to sink your teeth into the impossible task of doing a doc on streetwear? And how hard was it to find the right production partners?
It was more a question I wanted to answer for myself. The longer I worked and existed in this thing called “streetwear,” the less I understood it, which is an uncomfortable feeling. Imagine if you’re a pro basketball player, but no two people can agree on the rules. Everyone seemed to have their own answer for what streetwear is, how it started, and who was responsible for it.
Meanwhile, we’re watching so many outside industries, media, and companies co-opt “streetwear” and change it. I wanted to preserve this chapter of streetwear, by acknowledging the OGs, and asking them where to turn next. As you watch and learn, I’m there alongside you taking notes. This film changed my perception of streetwear, what it was, and where it’s headed.

Were there any key players from the past, which you would have loved to include in the project, that totally refused to speak their mind on camera after all these years? Were there even some who were rather sceptical because they were a bit afraid that - besides your best intentions - the result would somehow be branded since you’re involved with The Hundreds?
Of course. It was a risk and a factor I had to accept by taking on this project. I understood the film’s credibility could hinge on it, but I also believed my perspective is valuable because I’ve been involved in this space for fifteen years professionally, and my entire life as a fan. An outsider wouldn’t understand the nuances, the emotions and unsaid dynamics of what it’s like to create in this space. And that’s really what this movie is about. Not a veritable A-Z history of streetwear - that’s impossible to do in 90 minutes - but a window into the trials and tribulations of certain brands’ stories.
As so many of the interviewees told me, if I didn’t do it, who else? People have been talking about documenting streetwear for years, but nobody cares enough to do it, or doesn’t know how. I accepted that I’d be critiqued for taking on the endeavor, but I’ve never cared about my personal image. I believe there is a responsibility, a duty, to an individual’s work. It stands apart from ego and self. The existence of a documentary about streetwear is more important to me than my reputation

Streetwear obviously was always connected to subcultures and it’s connected to a DIY ethos. Would you say that subcultures, the way we experienced them while growing up, are still intact - or did the digital age kill them?
I believe subcultures still exist, if we follow Dick Hebdige’s definition of resistance by youth and symbolism. I used to think that the Internet killed the underground, but that’s impossible. People think the Internet is a finite book that you can read from start to finish. But, it goes on forever. There are millions of subcultures that are out in the open on the Internet today that you will never find. Even if I told you all the places where the underground exists, you would need three lifetimes to explore them all.
I think the Internet did the opposite for subcultures, it exploded them. There are more nuances and subgenres than ever. Individuals in themselves can be an entire underground movement. 

Another very important term related to streetwear - at least in its earlier years - was authenticity and integrity. It was important to know about the creative cats behind the brand, to know about their background - something that seems to be almost obsolete these days as it is more important to find out which celeb is wearing the gear, don’t you think?
I agree, and that’s why I emphasize culture and community so much in discussing streetwear. I say, “STREETWEAR WITHOUT CULTURE IS JUST FASHION.” Nowadays, younger streetwear fans are more interested in resale value and price tags. I don’t mind hype, I think that’s the excitement and value of brand association. But, I do have an issue with clothing being used to drive a classist or elitist divide.
The streetwear that I know and love is about people. At the end of the day, it’s all just t-shirts and jackets and baseball caps. No matter how far you get out there with design, it’s just cotton. The people behind the brands are what makes things special.
In traveling the world and doing hundreds of hours of interviews, I was reminded of how inspiring, passionate and eclectic these brand founders and designers are. Each personality could be a documentary in him or herself. We’re all square pegs that didn’t fit into normal jobs, or even into larger fashion. We don’t even play nicely with each other. Iconoclasts, frustrated rebels, us all.