Meet the man behind the loud, iconic jackets worn by NBA stars

With the Chicago Bulls trailing the Utah Jazz by a point late in Game 6 of the 1998 NBA Finals, Michael Jordan shook defender Bryon Russell, dribbled left once, and then released a 20-foot jumper. At that moment, from his seat inside the Delta Center, a less famous man whose legacy also happened to depend on the shot’s trajectory began to pray.

His name was Jeff Hamilton and he designed leather jackets. These leather jackets looked nothing like the comparatively drab things worn by pilots, bikers, and punks. His collection featured impossibly bright colors and oversized graphics. By then, he’d established himself as a go-to designer for NBA players, including the greatest one of all time.

So when the ball fell through the net to give the Bulls an 87-86 lead with 5.2 seconds remaining in the fourth quarter, Hamilton clapped his hands wildly. John Stockton’s missed 3-pointer at the buzzer preserved the victory for Chicago, which won the series 4-2 to clinch its third straight title. Afterward, a member of Jordan’s security team brought Hamilton back to the visiting locker room.

“The first question from Michael,” Hamilton remembered, “was ‘where’s my jacket?’”

“Right here,” Hamilton replied, handing over a coat emblazoned with a massive 3-D Bulls logo, the Chicago skyline, and six Larry O’Brien Trophies—one for each of Jordan’s NBA titles. Hamilton sold 2,000 “Repeat 3Peat” jackets at about $2,000 a pop. He said he still gets calls from people asking if that particular model is available.

The kind of mass-produced championship gear that leagues roll out every spring always had been (and mostly continues to be) uninspired. Hamilton tried to reboot the concept, and in the process created pro athletes’ second most desired celebratory keepsakes. Unlike the first, though, the winners received them immediately. As Hamilton put it: “They would get the jacket right away instead of waiting five months for the ring.”

His work was unapologetically loud, but this was the 1980s and 1990s. “Everybody was flashy and funky,” Hamilton said. He not only filled orders for sports stars, musicians, and comedians, he also tailored jackets for United States presidents. Late-night host Arsenio Hall, a ’90s fashion icon, once dubbed Hamilton, “emperor of the leather jacket.”

But long before he built his kingdom, Hamilton was a kid dreaming of life in America. Born in Morocco in 1956, Hamilton (né Bohbot) moved to Paris in 1967. As a young man, he studied math and physics before entering the fashion world. Shortly after relocating to the U.S. in 1980, he became a Guess Jeans licensee and launched the denim brand’s first line of menswear. By 1985, the annual sales of Hamilton’s division reportedly had reached $30 million.

In the mid-’80s, however, the relationship between Hamilton and Guess ended contentiously. At that point, the designer already had been creating “crazy” jackets for himself. He eventually started making elaborate pieces for celebrities like Michael Jackson, Mike Tyson, and George Michael.

Hamilton’s problem was production. For one person, it was totally overwhelming. “I purposely set insane prices because it was a new thing that nobody had seen,” he said. “I really was hoping I wasn’t going to get any orders.”

He knew that only doing custom jackets piecemeal wasn’t wise. On the advice of friends, he sought to increase business by acquiring licenses from the NFL and the NBA. This turned out to be a very good decision.

“There were 400 players, and coaches, and owners, and sponsors that have amazing disposable income,” Hamilton said. “They probably could relate to what I’m doing.”

His first NBA client was Reggie Theus. Then came Magic Johnson, who introduced him to Jordan. From there, Hamilton said, “everything started snowballing.”

At the 1992 Olympics in Barcelona, he hung out with members of the Dream Team. He made them jackets and they gave him their jerseys. Hamilton still has all 12. (Jordan even signed his.)

When a panel selected the 50 greatest players in NBA history during the 1996-97 season, the league commissioned Hamilton to make jackets for each honoree to wear at an All-Star game ceremony.

And every year in June, Hamilton attended the NBA Finals, after which he’d slip back into the winning locker room to deliver jackets. That experience, he said, was his version of winning a championship.

In 2002, when the Los Angeles Lakers clinched their third consecutive title, Hamilton presented the team with what was maybe his most showily memorable creation: a jacket covered with palm trees, a baby blue sky, beige sand, the L.A. skyline, and a Lakers logo the size of a hubcap.

Constructing such a complicated piece wasn’t easy. At his company’s peak, Hamilton employed hundreds of people. After Hamilton worked on the design with graphic artists, each piece of dyed leather had to be hand cut with an X-Acto knife. After the jackets were stitched together, Hamilton signed and dated each one. Because his work was so intricate, high-quality knockoffs didn’t exist. To Hamilton, this was a point of pride.

“The competition always thought business first and art after,” he said. “I want to do the best product, the best quality I possibly can, and let the business follow behind it.”

Being emperor of the leather jacket had its perks. “I always said there’s three people that really have reach,” Hamilton said. “President [Bill] Clinton, Muhammad Ali, and Michael Jordan.” He’s worked with all three. “I ended up doing a fitting for President Clinton, and at the time, First Lady Hillary. There’s like 20 people in the whole restaurant. You pinch yourself and say, ‘How can that happen?’”

For a long stretch in the 1990s and early 2000s, Hamilton’s jackets were a cultural phenomenon. Cam’ron even name-checked the designer on the track “Get ’Em Girls.” (When a rapper mentions you in a song, you know you’re a successful purveyor of luxury goods.)

“It’s living a dream,” Hamilton said. “And listen, at the time, I ended up making a lot of money in the process, which was great.”

But trends shift. The flashy and funky days of the ’80s and ’90s ended. And by the beginning of the last decade, Hamilton was burned out. He sold his company in 2002, ran it for two more years, then temporarily retreated from high-end fashion. While Hamilton was away, the economic collapse of 2008 further sapped the demand for items like expensive leather jackets.

These days, Hamilton runs both an art trade show and a street art auction. He’s also slowly rebuilding his jacket business. “Obviously there have been some challenges to get back to what it was,” he said. “Candidly, I’m not there.”

At least not yet. The nostalgia boom and social media are helping his cause. At any given moment, Hamilton’s 1.1 million Instagram followers can relive the designer’s ’90s and early aughts heyday in all of its technicolor glory.

His slate of celebrity clients is growing again, too. Hamilton recently made a jacket for Slash of the newly reunited Guns N’ Roses. When he wanted to dress up as Martin Lawrence last Halloween, Kevin Hart had Hamilton recreate the jacket the ’90s sitcom star wore in the opening credits of his eponymous show. Then there’s Drake, who this winter asked Hamilton for a one-of-a-kind piece that paid tribute to Kobe Bryant. While sitting courtside the All-Star game in his hometown of Toronto, the hip-hop star showed off the $7,000 “Farewell Mamba” jacket.

Among other eye-popping details, it featured a portrait of the retiring Laker.

Hamilton said that he’s currently in the process of renewing his NBA license.

He hopes that soon, basketball stars once again will be asking the same question that Jordan did 16 years ago: “Where’s my jacket?” - Jeff Hamilton