Boy in the Hood

Illustration By: Bill Westervelt

Want a sweatshirt that says home? Ask Michael de Zayas -- after he finishes packing.

by Jen Darr

It's a few weeks before Christmas and Michael de Zayas is surrounded by moving boxes, rolls of tape and piles of books. His cell phone rings.

Neighborhoodies, he answers, his tone chipper.

It's Moishe's Movers on the phone; they'll be at his Chelsea loft in just a half an hour. But the 28-year-old writer hasn't even started packing yet. He's still taping boxes together.

De Zayas is used to chaos; as a travel writer, he's always going from place to place. So it's somewhat ironic -- or maybe inevitable? -- that he's started a business that depends on people's loyalty to home base.

De Zayas is owner, founder, sole employee of Neighborhoodies, a clever new clothing company based in his New York City flat. (In 2003, he'll operate the business from a new apartment in Brooklyn.) Just three months old, the company sells made-to-order zip-up hoodies emblazoned with neighborhood names from almost a dozen major cities, including New York, Berlin, Chicago, Seattle, Boston and yes, Philadelphia (just about every 'hood is represented, from Manayunk to Bella Vista). In between trips to South America for Fodor's travel-writing assignments, de Zayas takes orders on his website, www.neighborhoodies.com.

The idea for the company popped into his head a few years back, while he was living in the Fort Greene section of Brooklyn. He made his own baby blue zip-up sweatshirt, but instead of the ubiquitous Brooklyn or New York on the front, he printed Ft. Greene in big white block letters.

Strangers stopped me on the street, he recalls. They wanted to know where they could get their own.

Although selling the hoodies seemed like a good idea, de Zayas didn't seriously entertain the notion of starting a company because he feared that someone would steal his idea. Plus, he had a full-time job at Bon Appétit magazine, and abundant travel writing gigs on the side. When he finally mustered up the courage to quit his steady job in 2002, he applied for a small business loan -- and was denied.

He used all the cash he had -- $400 -- for a photo shoot of his product. He placed an ad in The Onion, the satirical weekly. With three days before the ad was to go to print, de Zayas had no money to pay for the design of his website. So he bought a book and he spent 72 hours learning HTML.

He sold six in the first week, flew off to Chile for 10 days, returned and had eight more orders. He broke even, and a company was born.

De Zayas' business approach is simple, as is his marketing philosophy: Buy an ad, see if it works. If he makes more than he spends, then it's working.

Since placing that first advertisement in The Onion, he's graduated to more venerable publications. He recently forked over $1,500 for a teensy, 1-inch spot in The New Yorker.

That ad might kill me, he jokes.

It most likely won't, though. De Zayas charges a mere $49 for his hoodies -- cheap compared to most custom-made garb -- and he promises a 14-day turnaround on all orders. He even e-mails his customers to find out how they are enjoying their new purchases.

He also offers a create-your-own option if you can't find your hamlet on his website. Among the more interesting orders have been Bensonhurst Badass and Seldom.

Abandoning a full-time job to start a clothing company seems a bold move for someone who has had scant experience in the fashion industry, but when you consider his background, it makes sense. With a master's in poetry (from Sarah Lawrence College), de Zayas is fascinated with words, and, as a freelance Fodor's author, he's visited 20 different countries and states getting paid to learn about diverse neighborhoods.

I love places and names, he gushes.

So far, he offers hoodies for 10 cities, but he's looking to expand. Messenger bags and T-shirts are in the works, too.

Although the holiday season is upon him, he's got more on his mind than just tackle-twill-stitched sweatshirts. After he drops off his possessions at a nearby storage facility, he's off to Uruguay for a Fodor's assignment.

Who knows, maybe he'll start offering neighborhoodies for Montevideo. But we'd be happy with simply Queen Village.

Neighborhoodies come in styles ranging from 'classic¨ to 'femme,¨ with zippers and without, in a range of colors. Visit www.neighborhoodies.com.