Philip Coelho: Enterprising Scholar Extraordinaire
Philip Coelho likes to go places. From his long and diverse history of teaching positions at various universities to his travel-intensive job as an innovative blue jeans importer, going places seems to be the common thread in most all of Philip’s activities. When my dad became an assistant professor first at Western Washington State University in 1967, he began his career as a professor and as an academic. It wasn’t until 1983 that he started his first stint of entrepreneurship after the collapse of a small importer of Mexican jeans in Seattle during the Reagan economic crisis.
Three men ran the company, Hobeau,: Mike Tuten, Philip Prichett, and Eric Jensen. They were all young entrepreneurs at the time. Their company went bankrupt in 1982 because of new restrictions imposed by the Reagan administration discouraging trade between the Mexican importers and Seattle-based Hobeau. Dr. Coelho brightens up in his own cynical way when he talks about the “new” Reagan policy. He fondly recalls that if it weren’t for Reaganomics driving a small American business into bankruptcy, he would have been out of a job. But because of this bankruptcy, the enterprising professor was able to give a letter of credit to form a new company, Taboo Jeans, for $15,000. On this investment, Philip made about $800 a month for the next year. The new company was a wild success and emerged from its predecessor’s debt of more than $500,000 quickly. Before long, Taboo Jeans was competing against large jeans importers in Seattle like Union Bay.
The company’s accomplishment came largely from the increased production possibility from a Hong Kong exporter. Dr. Coelho was the one who made the connection with the Eastern supplier. This discovery meant that the company could secure good quality materials at low prices and that my dad could go to Hong Kong as a business representative nearly once a month. Hong Kong changed the path of my dad’s life greatly. During this time, Dr. Coelho continued to advance his career as an economics professor and the company continued to grow. Taboo Jeans had now grown in size and production so much that the company was bringing in over $12 million dollars a year in revenue, in the 1980s.
However, as the company grew larger, opportunities grew as well. Philip says that as the company grew, he became further away from the business side of it. Before he knew it, Mike Tuten had made an arrangement with a mainland Chinese importer promising high quality product at a lower price. This meant that my father was no longer needed for his connections in Hong Kong or his letter of credit, opening his eyes to the realities of the business world.
Although not a part of the company anymore, my dad continued to watch its progress closely. He says he was not very jealous, but his interest in the success or failure of the company suggests that he may be a little envious still. This side interest did not stop or even slow down my dad in his other career. After moving north to Washington State University from University of Washington in Seattle, in 1981, Philip moved to Fairfax, Virginia to teach at George Mason University. He says he traveled more than ever at that job from East Coast to West Coast, from China to Muncie, Indiana. His only regret, he says nostalgically, is the 1969 Dark Highland Green 392 C.I. Mustang Convertible from Montana that he had to sell because all of the cross-country travel made it impractical. He was offered a visiting professor position at Ball State University in 1983 and while still at George Mason he fell in love with a woman getting her Master’s degree in elementary education.
They married two years later and moved finally to Muncie, Indiana for Philip to teach at Ball State University. This was a change of scenery for my dad because of his experience of always living in a big city on the coast somewhere. But Ball State was the obvious choice, he said. The other choices included jobs like a tenured position at Manoa in Honolulu, Hawaii. When asked why he chose Ball State instead, he said with a surprising amount of earnestness, “I was a big silly; I made a big mistake.” The notion that my dad, supreme and flawless in his economic knowledge and wisdom, would admit a mistake tickled me.
Admitting a mistake is a huge accomplishment for my father. Since I was a young child doing stupid things on a regular basis, I quickly learned his intolerance for foolishness. Today, as an older child, doing stupid things on a slightly less regular basis, I understand much of my father’s cynicism. As the all-knowing authority on economic issues across the globe, in a conversation about such issues, my dad is absolutely never wrong. Suggesting he might be wrong is a mistake most do not repeat, and now I understand this attitude. Although I have heard the same story I am retelling now many times, after looking back over all of the pieces, this story explains how my father became disillusioned with the cutthroat business world and how he became distrustful to even the closest around him.
While he was hundreds of miles away from the company of friends that left my father behind years ago, he still followed their progress and talked with his former associates on a regular basis. As the company searched for the best deal in producers in China, they came across a great deal promising excellent quality at low prices. But their supposedly YKK zippers is where they saved the most money. In telling the next part of the story, my dad brightens up completely. The counterfeit zippers actually sewed into the jeans malfunctioned in large numbers after being quickly bought off the shelves in the entire North Pacific coast. More than half of the faulty jeans were returned within the next month. Because of this incident, customers were angry, and many embarrassed by their zipper malfunction. The company’s reputation was ruined. My dad makes sure to emphasize that this is the punch line whenever retelling this story. However, they never ended up paying the Chinese retailer. Taboo kept the Chinese threats in check by holding the counterfeiting evidence. The company, however, could not be saved. After six more weeks, the company closed and was no more by early 1991. Everyone in the company took away about $250,000, except for the one who got the company on its feet again.
My dad used his business knowledge from his experience in the competitive world of entrepreneurship to his advantage as a professor. He says now he can’t imagine that he could accurately describe business in the world economy without that experience. It’s no doubt that his cynicism can be traced in some degree to his experience of going from founding member and invaluable connection to expended resource in the course of a few years. My father then said sarcastically, “That’s the story of how I ended up here and not in Hawaii,” knowing he really had meant much more with his story of commitment and defeat. Just as significant, this story shows the roots of my own cynicism and sarcasm. Although we both know on some level that Muncie, IN would be our home regardless of how the business venture ended, it’s comforting to have a scapegoat to take the blame for our mistakes and regrets. He has Reagan to thank for where his job took him, and that means that I have Reagan to thank for ending up in Muncie, Indiana and not Honolulu. Thank you, Mr. President.
