This day went so fast.

So there’s this Paul Westerberg song called “Final Hurrah” where he sings—

I don’t ever want to hear these words again:
“If only we had, I wish that we did.”
You’re my latest last chance, my final hurrah
this day went so fast, I barely even saw you…

Paul Westerberg singing the truth is like getting a black eye from being punched by a flower petal. (Do it again, Paul.)

Halfway into The Good Ones Clothing’s life, we renamed our band after that song—all hail The Final Hurrahs!

Adrian, Stuart, Franklin, Bullfrog and Paulie: you have tattooed our lives.


I’m writing this blog today to everyone who ever gave a damn about The Good Ones Clothing. I’m writing to thank you for doing so.
Here’s the news: over the coming weeks, we’re going to close up the shop.

We’ll have a couple of sales online, another right here at 433 for all you Fort Wayners (and wide-eyed dreamers who always imagined visiting here someday), and then we’ll donate the rest of our inventory to a few charities that we’re especially fond of.

The Good Ones is not “going out of business”—rather, we’re going on an indefinite hiatus. When and if we return, reimagined, we might be a creative outlet for products developed at One Lucky Guitar, or maybe as a cartoon or graphic novel, or as a record label for music that makes people jump up and down and pump their fists in the air and fall in love and incites kids to want to write songs and play instruments. Whatever. Something.

What we will not primarily be is a children’s clothing company.

When Denise, Sam and I started the company, I tried to make a little “business plan”—it was literally one side of an 8.5×11 sheet of paper, nothing more. Denise laughed and said, “You’re silly. Can we just have fun?”

We could. And we did.

We didn’t start the company for any reason other than that we wanted to start a business together. To collaborate, to create, to work our asses off—always—and maybe, to change some kids’ lives.

We could. And we did.

We wanted to start a company that was actually a band—more powerful together, more confident together, more creative together, more fun together, more successful together. More brave, more courageous, more happy. Together.

We could. And we did.

But here’s the thing: I didn’t want to own and run a children’s clothing company.

I wanted to own and run a children’s clothing company with Denise DeMarchis.

And so: onward.


You talk about blood & sweat? Everyone who touched this company went all in.

Denise believed in this team, and inspired it. I particularly saw her unpredictable talents and soul reflected in Sam, Olivia, Emma and my own Ruby Dylan. They, and all of us really, will keep the mercury moving.

To David and Sam, may we sing karaoke and laugh real tears in the middle of a New York City night, again? Yes, let’s. And in the morning, make mine a tall house, bit of ice.

Josh Hall and John Burkett and Tom Galliher and Michelle Huesgen and Joel Faurote and Jami Davis and Shannon Sewell and Shannon Stewart and Julie Martin helped bring this entire idea to life—raucously, vibrantly and passionately. Thank you.

I want to thank my “’95-96 Bulls”—my friends Paige Strong, Leslee Hill, Carrie Seiferman, Amy Patton, Bridget Pearson, Stacey Clark, Tammy Davis and my chillbuds Nate Utesch, Drew Kora and Tommy Cutter. We had us a real good time, and made some memories we’ll never, ever forget. Thank you for the time we spent together.

These days I’m on the frontlines with my “2016 Warriors”—the unbelievably amazing Olivia Fabian, Emma McCarron, Jonathan Barker, Shane Starr, Matt Thomas, Michelle Love, Beth Bobay, Kara Hackett, Alex Fabian and my soul brother Jake Sauer, livin’ on the edge and pushing further and farther every day. There’s a war outside that’s raging; we have each other’s backs, ready to take on the world. Thank you for believing. What more could I ask for? Nothing.

Tim Rogers helped name the company, and sang the song “Gray” and another called “The Paragon Café” that you should cue up and spend the rest of the day listening to.

Finally, you can’t do this between 9 and 5, and we didn’t. There was no question asked, but the DeMarchis and Kelley families still answered, simply, “Yes.” We said the company was “for the kids who light fireworks in our souls.” Indeed it was. David, Joe, Gabe; Angie, Henry, Ruby and Charley; Mark. Anything ever.

To Denise, I just want to say that we’re still in the band together, we always will be, and in the quiet moments and in the loud moments I hear your ideas and your passages and I listen intently, and I try my best to play them just like you would. Thank you the most.