The story begins in the winter of 1989, deep in the heart of suburban Wisconsin, where the horizon was as flat as the opportunities - at least, so it seemed. High school was ordinary, until it crackled with possibility thanks to my friend Ari, a hard-core rock climber with a yellow streak. He’d started making chalk bags and hats under his brand, audaciously named “Yer-a-Peein’ Design.” It was Mad-magazine genius.

I couldn’t resist. My mom’s sewing machine sat quietly in our hallway closet, waiting for purpose. One afternoon, I threaded that needle, long before I even considered being an artist (I actually skipped out on art classes in high school. Back then, I was honestly afraid people would see it as a sign I wasn’t smart). I dubbed my own fledgling line “Urine Style”- once again taking a page from Ari’s creative playbook.

Milwaukee’s music scene radiated just enough chaos to energize us: Wild Kingdom, destined to become Citizen King, fueled our weekends. Obsessed, we attended show after show. I started sewing blue-and-white striped Kofia caps for my friends - a prison chain gang motif, reimagined for ska-punk kids barely out of suburbia, each one sewn and silkscreened by hand.

The real magic was in the process itself. Ari reverse-engineered his favorite clothes for Yer-a-Peein’, carefully taking them apart and mapping out how things were made; I learned form him, breaking down old garments to unlock their secrets, reimagining patterns, experimenting for the sake of invention and idiocy. I still have my 1993 sweater-vest, made from an American Airlines blanket with giant leather gardening gloves instead of pockets.

By the time I reached college in Madison, Urine Style was ready for its first real foray into the marketplace. On a whim in 1992, I called Patagonia to ask if they had any extra Synchilla fleece. They did, and I soon transformed their offcuts into custom winter hats. Those hats found a perfect venue at the California Connection skate/snowboard shop on State Street.

Fast forward to 2023—Urine Style experienced a revival. I brought the label back, reconnecting with longtime friends who remembered the originals and welcoming a new wave of kewl-hunters drawn to the brand’s distinct identity and playful legacy. Today, each new piece continues the tradition: thoughtfully crafted, unmistakably marked, and open to anyone eager for a garment with history and a bit of pee stitched in.