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ETHOS MAGAZINE
the bombastic Getty wasn’t exactly an entrepreneur because he inherited fhis father’s oil business, nonetheless he had a sound business mind. He saw a clear path and tracked it like a bloodhound to riches untold. Through the same lips passed the words, “No one can possibly achieve any real and lasting success or get rich in business by being a conformist.”
He distanced himself from the status quo and then let his ideas serve as his steam engine, his driving force.
Though they haven’t been as financially blessed as Getty, ISU students Matthew Goodman, JIm Stark, Wendell Mosby, and Ryan Kinart are entrepreneurs in their own right, constantly giving birth to new ideas, shunning conformity, lusting after efficiency, and ultimately trying to find an untapped market at Iowa State. Some of them have discoverd that market. Others have struggled financially, barely breaking even. All four seem to view any present success in terms of experience rather than dollar signs. This is the story of the neighbor you don’t see because he or she is alwyas working. This is the reason John or James or Jessica is drving that 1999 Chevy Tahoe you’ve been salivating over. This could be your story.
Wendell Mosby, creator of “Wimp Phations” clothing line
Wendell Mosby, senior in apparel merchandising, design and production, isn’t a wimp, although his clothing line bears the name “Wimp Phations.” He chose the name for his trademark because of his childhood epithet -wimp. Maybe it was because he was an only child and gave up ‘boy stuff,” a.k.a. sports, for cooking, cleaning, and building so other children biittled him. He’s a big boy now and has advice for those people who think he’s too big for his britches or that his clothing line will fail: “Picture me rollin’,” he says with a characteristics snicker. He borrows the line from his late inspiration: Tupac Shakur.
To the cursious, “Picture me rollin’” is synonymous wiht “Watch me make bank,” Mosby says in a slick voice. His smooth, jiggy demeanor resmebels Will Smith’s as he pace the floor of his dorm room, occasionally stooping to pick up an item of clothing that has been put in the wrong spot in haste. He’s a busy man.
As a high school freshman in Chicago Heights, IL., Mosby created his own clothing line: “Wimp Wear.” Acquaintance guffawed when he brought his wares bearing his nickname to school his sophomore year. His inaugural line consisted of jackets and jeans he bought on layaway at K-Mart. He emblazoned the “Wimp” name with recognizable icons, such as reefer leaves and dice. “Snoop and Dre was in at the time and so was the chronic. I thought, ‘I’ll make some quick money by putting blunt leave or some dice on the clothes,’” he says.
The young entrepreneur misread his market. He was met mostly with discouraging words. But Mosby was not going down like that. To make a point, he broadened his clothing line, printing T-Shirts, sweat pants, hats, and jackets bearing the “Wimp” logo.
Mosby decided to take his clothing line with him to Iowa State after tragedy struck one day before he was to graduate high school. His girlfriend at the time, who was five-months pregnant, miscarried.
“That made me decide that I had nothing to lose, and I decided to jump right into my future,” Mosby told the Iowa State Daily in December 1997. “That is still my motivation now; it’s just a dog-eat-dog world.’
It was two articles about “Wimp Wear” appearing in the Daily his freshman and sophomore years that gave him notoriety. That and the fact that he involved himself in everything he could fit comfortably within his schedule. Now, he’s a Government of the Student Body senator for the College of Family and Consumer Sciences. He’s a teaching assistant, a peer mentor, a student admissions representative, a member of ISU’s strategic planning committee, and he moonlights at Tazzles.
“My overall goal for me at Iowa State is to become immortal,” he says frankly. He wants to be the next prominent minority figure at ISU. “I’m gonna lave a mark so big, they’re gonna have to name building after me.”
Though “Wimp Phations” has not become the next Tommy Hilfiger or Abercrombie and Fitch at ISU, Mosby shrugs it off. He is thinking longevity. He does not want “Wimp Wear” positioned beside other lines in a popularity contest. “I want to be like Ralph Lauren,” he says. ”He’s been in the business for at least thirty-some years.” Mosby takes the fact that “Wimp Wear” has not turned a profit in stride. His plan to make it big in the future sounds like the first lesson in Economics 101: regulate a supply to create a big demand.
Now he’s “planting seeds” for the future sales by donating several articles of his clothing as door prizes and allowing his disc
jockey friends to give out “Wimp Wear” clothing during their KURE radio shows. To him, everyone is a potential customer. It is not the money that matters the most at this point. “It’s name-brand recognition,” he says. His bedroom mirror reads: “It’s your world,” another Tupac-inspired quote. To talk to Mosby, you would think he had his secured by the tail.