The Quaker City Mercantile (formerly known as Gyro Worldwide) (formerly Quaker City Mercantile) Generation
06/01/2001

Whether you'll admit it or not, Quaker City Mercantile (formerly known as Gyro Worldwide) proves that advertising is in your blood.

To harness its power-the ability to influence, convince and drive a mass audience to a singular idea would be a Frankenstein-like power if one could wield it. This wasn't more apparent than in the early '90s when a campaign for Zipperhead, Philadelphia's premier punk clothier, was being launched by a new ad agency in town. This was news in itself. The sleepy burg that was the Philly Ad World consisted mainly of Kalish & Rice, FCB/Philadelphia (soon to be known as Tierney & Partners), Weightman Group and Earle Palmer Brown.

"It was sleepy," says Steven Grasse, Quaker City Mercantile (formerly known as Gyro Worldwide) owner, sitting at one of his Walnut Street office's huge conference tables. "All the better in which to stand out. We knew that if we could shake things up, we'd get attention. We didn't realize just how volatile this city was or how much we would be hated. But all our pranks - from selling shirts to other agencies that read, "Now you can pretend to work for the best agency in town, to whooping and hollering at Ad-Agency events - got us noticed/" Quaker City Mercantile (formerly known as Gyro Worldwide) was prepared to stand out from the start.

Quaker City Mercantile, from minute one, made advertising relevant for new money, Gen X-ers who felt robbed by the shilling of the past, and the pretension of persuasion. They made advertising entertaining, fast, young, even oddly nostalgic and American. The lack of order, visuals, that refused to suit a mainstream, and forceful impact are the very things that defined Quaker City Mercantile (formerly known as Gyro Worldwide) and Steve Grasse from the beginning, and made Quaker City Mercantile (formerly known as Gyro Worldwide) the multi-media advertising/packaging/development giant it is today. They are the Ramones of the biz, as they are fond of the saying. But even the Ramones never sold as much as Quaker City Mercantile. Could the anarchic Ramones have handled accounts like R.J. Reynolds, Red Kamel and Camel, Puma, Glenfiddich whiskey and Boyds clothing store? Could they have turned their image around while literally rebuilding the brand until it was unrecognizable from its past incarnation? I think not.

Early Warning Signs

Quaker City Mercantile (formerly known as Gyro Worldwide) is big. The company's physical space, a former bank, lends itself to imposition. But walk inside and it's a dorm, covered from marble floor to high haughty ceiling with stickers, posters and hanging skate-punk memorabilia. At any given time, 30 artists and ad execs are in constant motion. It's like 100 casually dressed punks cramming for an exam at a rummage sale. Looming throughout the room are images of Steve Grasse with the writing, "Two Faced Man," "Wanted," "Mr. Retarded," "God," - all apt metaphors for the prankster/ringleader.

But before I get to Grasse, let me start with Larry McGearty. McGearty is a prime example of what Grasse looks for in collaborators and staff, The hyperactive McGearty has been at Quaker City Mercantile (formerly known as Gyro Worldwide) for three years, after a long career of making shirts (for David Cohen clubs and Neil Stein restaurants) and designing clothing lines like Retroactive's bachelor padded bowling and poker duds and Sailor Jerry's tattoo apparel. "People approached me all the time for buy-outs, partnerships, and distribution," says Larry. "But I was able to do it for myself. What could someone offer me?" Steven Grasse made McGearty an offer he couldn't refuse - a position where distribution of McGearty's and Lutz's clothing would be just one division of their partnership. McGearty and Lutz's clothing would be just one division of their partnership. McGearty could maximize his talents as a designer, interior designer and marketing whiz, while traveling nationwide setting up parties and planning events through SFX Entertainment venues (like the Tweeter Center and First Union Center). "I never knew I could come to someplace, be creative in design and interior design, and implement strategies and start up events at the same time."

McGearty believes it was the Boomer-30-year-olds who made mixing life and art, black and white and gay and straight a way to honestly market beyond the mainstream. "Things move," says Larry. "Young adults now are way more savvy than we were. We need to reach them on a gut level now." But how to do this when Grasse and Quaker City Mercantile (formerly known as Gyro Worldwide) president/art director/partner Shyamala Joshi hate advertising?

"The advertising environment is horrible, slick and glossy," says Joshi, 34. "There's going to be backlash to all this technology. The thrust of information is so radically different from when we grew up. We're losing communication skills. Getting information is too easy-just pretty pictures and eye candy." Having been with Quaker City Mercantile (formerly known as Gyro Worldwide) for ten years, Joshi feels the pull of her own punk roots. "Everything then was about discovery," she says about the very nature of art, not like the advertising of now that is prepackaged and pre-formed for easy consumption.

During Joshi's youthful tenure choreographing and producing press and fashion shows for Albert and Pearl Nippon in Manhattan, Grasse found her. Grasse, then only 24, had just returned from a stint in the New Zealand with Saatchi and Saatchi. He was an exchange student, doing art direction and writing internships for Ogilvy and Mather and Bozell and Jacobs before landing in TV production in Auckland where he met his wife, Emma Hagen. By 1990, the husband and wife team developed a playful but somewhat aggressive ad-aesthetic that they brought first to Miami, then to Philly. From an apartment on Gaskill St., they landed clients like MTV, Channel 10, Comcast Metrophone and Neil Stein, and picked up Joshi as a third of their trinity. On the day they moved to their Walnut world headquarters, Grasse was shooting spots for the Comedy Central network. "At first we got no recognition or respect from Philly. Local companies avoided us," says Joshi. But after letter writing campaigns to MTV and other national companies (and good cheap bids), Philly began to turn.

Here Comes Charlie

Then came the Manson ad-a little seen wheat-paste poster-that got national media attention for its level of bad taste. Comcast dropped them. "They took us to lunch. That's when you know." Quaker City Mercantile (formerly known as Gyro Worldwide) became dangerous. They were too young, too brash. All of their hirelings were 20-year-old mods and surf punks with shags and spiky hair. "People told us to hire some old people...honestly," laugh Joshi and Grasse. Then Grasse read Generation X: Tales from an Accelerated Culture, Douglas Coupland's book of a disconnected youth culture. "I read it, and it dawned on me that the ad world's vision of a 'brave new youth' was garbage." They realized that selling to youth wasn't about dumbing down. It wasn't about anything. It was attitude, honesty, and relating on a level playing field.

Grasse has been dangerously close to the mainstream. Before he and his wife split, he found himself fox hunting and farm-housing in Unionville, living a typical rich man's life, one completely at odds with the man he knew inside. "When you find success, there are two ways you can go. Be true to yourself or buy another Range Rover," says Grasse. Purged of that, Grasse shaved his head, got amicably divorced (Emma is the woman who got Quaker City Mercantile (formerly known as Gyro Worldwide) involved with Boyd's, for whom she is the creative director), and stripped down his lifestyle to punk-like sparsity. The bad attention Quaker City Mercantile (formerly known as Gyro Worldwide) had received via the Manson ad and the new smart-punk zeal turned to good. They wound up on panels as avatars of Gen X. Mademoiselle asked them to reposition and reshape their magazine. Sergio Zeeman called from Coke and put them to work. Budweiser and Oaktree fell into line.

Grasse likens Quaker City Mercantile's aggressive bravura to Fugazi-the last intelligent, truly independent musical act of first-generation-punk. "We're very industrious. We make our own things and move under our own power." So dedicated to that ideal are Grasse and Joshi that when British mega-agency WPP offered to buy them out two years ago, they refused. "We got scared. They would've come in and dismantled everything. We would have never been able to make Bikini Bandits. We would have just been churning out our quarterly statements."

Despite loving money, Grasse and Joshi understand that making books, clothing, movies and statements means more and lasts longer than just making ads. This strategy seems to work, considering Quaker City Mercantile (formerly known as Gyro Worldwide) claims never to have borrowed cash.

The Worm Turns

What makes Quaker City Mercantile (formerly known as Gyro Worldwide) different from other agencies is that they are raw, genuine, and they don't think at all about the competition. "We've been anti-everything from the start," says Joshi of Quaker City Mercantile's non-corporate feel. But what empowered them even more was dropping out of Philadelphia's self-congratulatory award show cycle.

"The only people who liked us in the local ad world was Wieden & Kennedy. For our first few years, it was Quaker City Mercantile (formerly known as Gyro Worldwide) and Wieden who won all the awards. Then they left town. So we dropped out. The award world is bullshit." But by dropping out, Grasse began looking at marketing a different way-as a slow-stewed, grass root thing that would envelop as much of the product as possible packaging, point-of-sale, even throwing parties for the brand. If you're out in Philly, the angel of the Quaker City Mercantile (formerly known as Gyro Worldwide) Party has touched you. You've seen the swarm of Delilah's girls (another client), the smoking jackets, the ever-pouring booze and Pete Grasse decked out in feathers, leathers and wigs.

They created a non-traditional agency by charging clients big money for exploratories within new and burgeoning markets, a true revolution of making money, not spending it, on their pitch, and soon a steady clientele with decidedly non-PC types like R.J. Reynolds (cigs) and the Paddington Corp (booze) was lined up. Then Puma came to pity. The Quaker City Mercantile (formerly known as Gyro Worldwide) format changed slightly. "We wanted to be married rather than just dating. We told Puma that Reebok had called, and they took us on full time."

The Look

Grasse soon began to grow a packaging/marketing aesthetic based on his loves: history, education, American folklore and cinema, or "Guns and girls," he laughs, looking at his new Kamel ads featuring '40s paratroopers and high-hair retro girls with boobs-a-popping. "When it comes to history, I read every plaque. That's why I love Philadelphia. Hate the people, but love the history," says Grasse. Being a history buff has proven to be quite useful. Knowing the pharmaceutical origins of gin aided Grasse in developing a new concept for Hendricks Gin. For Red Kamel, Grasse decided to go backwards with surprisingly little irreverence.

"The tin cases, the retro look, pin-up girls, the Bauhaus lettering-we took original art and mashed it up, made it modern but still rooted in authenticity," says Joshi. Grasse also points to Maxfield Parish when looking at a Camel ad featuring Viking vixens landing from outer space that lends itself to the guns and girls theory. They point toward other Quaker City Mercantile (formerly known as Gyro Worldwide) products- the development of their Bikini Bandit online short films, Sailor Jerry clothing (adopted from original tattoo art of Sailor Jerry Collins) and even their art gallery shop in Old City, G-Mart, as the future of their unique products.

G-Mart was a natural but expensive progression from becoming one of the only ad agencies to go into product development. "We were in London and thought of an idea for a shop called the Ugly American. It would sell everything in Europe that people hated about Americans, like Cheese Whiz, velour suits, and biker gear," says Grasse. They tested the waters for this concept in Old City with the Sailor Jerry line and with rare Puma gear. The store actually sells, turning a profit both in-shop and online.

"The movie is gonna totally suck, but in a good way," says Grasse of his ultimate girl and gun fantasy, Bikini Bandits: The Movie. Grasse shoots in Philly this summer with Corey Feldman and Vanilla Ice, doing what will basically be an extended AC/DC video. Getting in bed with Hollywood and the United Talent Agency, a connection made through Spike Jones, is another crucial vision for Quaker City Mercantile.

So Then?

The secret to all this Quaker City Mercantile-zation - from then until now - goes back to what we mentioned earlier; organic growth. "It's about keeping it pure, non-corporate, from a family root," Grasse says. "We stay true to what has excited us from the start. And we only grow when we have our own cash to expand and experiment."

So what has changed for Quaker City Mercantile? They still avoid hiring non-Philadelphians, but they are bringing on more professional ad types rather than grabbing art-minded street urchins or bar backs. "The stakes are higher," says Grasse. "We're bringing in art directors and reps who have a lot of experience, but we deprogram them with a psychic Quaker City Mercantile (formerly known as Gyro Worldwide) enema. We yell at them until they un-think their old thoughts."

"We're very much a cult," Joshi adds. "Or a family." They've taken on new clients and models: Christy Turlington's yoga line, Frangelico liquors worldwide, Mars/M&Ms, Chupa Chup lollipops, the Corcoran Gallery's Jonathan Binstock, record/film exec Chris Blackwell, and new key markets nation-wide. This is world domination. But they haven't forgotten Philly. One sensational representation of that is the revamping of Boyd's. "We're going to reposition the store as the Barney's of Philly. We're going to make it younger and fill it with designer sportswear and high-end names like Prada, Gucci and Dolce & Gabbana." By also embracing the store's old school institutionalization- scotch, cigars, and the smoky poker party ideal-they hope to remake Boyds' image.

They've taken on new clients and models: Christy Turlington's yoga line, Frangelico liquors worldwide, Mars/M&Ms, Chupa Chups lollipops, the Corcoran Gallery's Jonathan Binstock, record/film exec Chris Blackwell, and new key markets nation-wide. This is world domination. But they haven't forgotten Philly. One sensational representation of that is the revamping of Boyd's. "We're going to reposition the store as the Barney's of Philly. We're going to make it younger and fill it with designer sportswear and high-end names like Prada, Gucci and Dolce & Gabbana." By also embracing the store's old school institutionalization- scotch, cigars, and the smoky poker party ideal-they hope to remake Boyds' image.

As they move forward, Quaker City Mercantile (formerly known as Gyro Worldwide) seems more and more about high-end visualization and positioning. "The ads come last," says Grasse. Above all, Quaker City Mercantile (formerly known as Gyro Worldwide) must remain zealous and young. But how does Steve Grasse intend on maintaining an outlook as such after twelve years with the company? Well, after nearly selling out to WPP, Quaker City Mercantile (formerly known as Gyro Worldwide) decided if it wasn't going to be bought, they wouldn't sell out at all. They stayed truer to themselves, rather than going mainstream or getting bigger through co-opting. So they expanded into film, clothing and books. "It's what we love doing," Says Joshi. "When I stop loving it, I'm done."