Jay-Z

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After five years, consider it vintage. Allen Iverson's rookie jersey serves as both a historical artifact and a fashionable throwback. By weathering the NBA for more than five years, the 76er guard's authentic apparel can now be considered a modern classic. This is vital information for hip-hop stars or aspiring MCs, jet-setting to the recent trend of throwback sports jerseys. The authentic Iverson rookie apparel makes the grade. However, those looking to set the trends should plan on digging deeper into the catalogue for more obscure athletes than this contemporary, tattooed all-star.

Ever since hip-hop innovators and style avatars Outkast appeared on MTV sporting old school Houston Astros jerseys with rainbow colors and '70s flavor, the rap world has seen an emerging trend in old school/vintage sports apparel. Supporting this trend is Mitchell and Ness, a Philadelphia sporting goods company that produces thousands of authentic jerseys from seasons past, and has certainly set the industry standard. In addition to producing authentic team jerseys, the company manufactures exact replicas of those worn by individual players. Instead of just obtaining an old school Astros jersey, you can buy a detailed copy of Nolan Ryan's jersey from a specific year.

Authentic Mitchell and Ness jerseys will cost anywhere from $200-500, a heftier price than buying a modern jersey at the mall, but it is the trademark of authenticity that raises the cost. While few hip-hop stars own as much Mitchell and Ness as Outkast (rumored to have purchased about $25,000 worth of authentic gear), others have been seen in videos "discovering" forgotten logos and athletes.

When musicians and fashion purveyors Jay-Z and P. Diddy, with the "Roc-A-Wear" and "Sean John" clothing lines respectively, are seen in retro gear, the trend is definitely taking off. Jay-Z sports an old school San Diego Padres jersey in the "Girls, Girls, Girls" video from his Blueprint album, and P. Diddy, another favored customer of Mitchell and Ness with at least fifty jerseys hanging in his closet, can be seen making the band on MTV in old school fashion. As two of the most prominent mainstream hip-hop artists, both stars have helped invigorate the youth into reclaiming these logos and jerseys, once only available in reruns on the classic sports network.

Not since shaggy haired, indie rockers stormed their local thrift shops for ironic ringer tees and mesh hats has a retro fashion hit the streets with such a force. Years ago, young people influenced by anyone from Nirvana to Pavement began shedding their new clothes for vintage threads, especially items like tight, pastel colored '70s T-shirts from some town's youth soccer league. There seemed to be a genuine nostalgia for reminiscing through clothes, with kids beginning to wear the same corduroy that they shed years earlier. Is hip-hop culture experiencing a similar rebirth of styles that serves as a reminder of youth or are there other motivations behind the recent trend? Are other bygone urban trends going to become unearthed? Will Raiders starter jackets and Reebok pumps become the next must-have item for the youth of today?

Already, old school Air Jordans are once again coveted items, with rising prices at vintage stores and soaring ebay bids for the prized Nikes that were the footwear sensation of the 1980s. Is it because kids still want to "be like Mike," the aging legend playing for the Washington Wizards, or is it the twenty-something set with fond remembrances of watching the most dominant player of the era, annually leading the Chicago Bulls to the NBA finals?

What does it mean when sports retro becomes the new cool, reappropriated by a generation that has only vague memories of the logos, names, and numbers emblazoned on these vintage shirts? In the case of hip-hop, there is obviously nostalgia for the urban innovators of the genre, which could be the impetus for this resurgence in styles worn before hip-hop became a world force in music and culture, leaving the South Bronx for global domination. Just as thirty years ago, battles ensue in the streets, though instead of fighting with rhymes, rivals try to outdo what the other is wearing with these throwback threads.

You can take the more traditional route and opt for authentic jerseys of some of basketball's iconic Hall of Famers, such as the 1971-72 Wilt Chamberlain or the 1988-89 Isiah Thomas. For others, the decision may be to unearth a forgotten star of the past and show off the 1987-88 Alex English or the 1992-93 jersey of fallen Nets star, Drazen Petrovic, killed in a car accident at the age of 28. As opposed to being one of ten guys at a show wearing a Dr. J jersey, you could proudly wear an authentic Clyde Drexler, not a perennial favorite outside of the Portland area. However, throwbacks are not only limited to basketball.

Recently, many of the most widely seen jerseys on television are 1970s and '80s reissues of major league baseball teams. Old school jerseys of teams such as the Milwaukee Brewers, Montreal Expos, White Sox, and Astros, ghosts of another era, have been resurrected out of oblivion and into hip-hop culture. Today, shop windows of retail sports stores showcase styles that, by today's standards, would be considered out of place for the men playing on the field. The vibrant colors and rainbow designs that were the norm in the seventies and eighties have been replaced with more conservative color schemes, or with shades of gray and black.

In the early 1990s, for example, rappers such as Dr. Dre sported the then new, all-black White Sox cap. In his video "Deep Cover," Dre, along with Snoop Dogg, could be seen rocking these White Sox hats and jackets. Now, however, the fashion of decades past has come back. While, a decade ago, Dre preached on MTV about his black White Sox cap, for today's fashion-crazed teen the defunct, old-school emblem now takes top billing.

The rise of these urban youth consumers in the market, formerly dominated by middle-aged, Caucasian sports collectors, signifies a remarkable demographic shift in the purchasing of these replicas. While jerseys were probably bought in the past by either avid collectors of memorabilia or diehard fans of a specific team, throwback jerseys are purchased now with fashion as the foremost concern. Whether or not someone ever rooted for the White Sox now, or 20 years ago, is irrelevant.

And while it may seem strange to see Jay-Z wearing anything other than a New York Yankees hat, it does not appear out of the ordinary for him to be wearing an old-school Brewers jacket because the color scheme and logo are obviously no longer used. These teams still exist, but are not the same teams whose jerseys adorn the bodies of hip-hop aficionados. Retired from the playing field, these forgotten logos and players enter the public sphere and are recontextualized in a different way. The rapper's allegiance to a team (the Yankees) or a city (New York) is never questioned.

As in the case of Jay-Z, mainstream hip-hop is very often defined in the media by artists' home coasts or specific cities. Sports apparel, has consistently been a popular fashion in hip-hop as a way for many rappers to represent their own locales in videos. Identification with a local team serves as further justification for staking one's own territory. With the popularity of throwbacks, though, hip-hop stars have many times transcended their own areas, wearing old-school team logos from other coasts or cities. Unlike being dressed in apparel of one's favorite team, wearing a throwback does not mean the individual is now a fan of the Astros or Brewers, nor a citizen of either Houston or Milwaukee.

Although this love affair with the retired logo is merely another trend in hip hop's long evolution, it is interesting the way that sports can symbolize far more than one might expect. Indeed, wearing the traditional, current logo of the local team can still symbolize an artist's claims of his/her roots, but recent styles of sporting wear attest to more than locality, signifying pure fashion for fashion's sake in an ever-changing culture.

In the future, as has always been the case, pop culture will seek out other remnants of the past, perhaps resurrecting long swimming trunks from the 1920s in reaction to contemporary Speedos and skimpy bikinis. All that can be known for sure is that the amorphous nature of music and culture will appropriate when necessary, picking and choosing from the vast array of formerly fashionable items, including sports apparel. Although this appropriation may be unpredictable, there are sure to be some constants: players and managers will change, stats and scores will be tracked ad infinitum, and the brilliant idea of drawing rainbows on polyester should last forever.