Ecko

Bro — on weekends — hearing protection is mandatory.
That is: they may have a deejay spinning, and the music blaring will be so loud that one will suffer permanent — as of the publishing of this review — irreversible, hearing loss. Even if they don’t have a deejay on the ones and twos, and instead they have a regular mix playing in the background (foreground), it is loud as fuck. Turn the goddamn amps down!
I love hip hop as much as the next non-​New Yorker, but I am not going to be deaf for the rest of my natural life just to score a deal on ugly T-​shirts.
Now, I have unfortunately purchased jeans here as well. I would recommend you not do that.
These jeans form the consistency of sand paper after washing. Moreover, these wine coloured ones (don’t ask) leak dye each and every time, without fail, that they are washed. They have to be washed solo forever. What. The. Fuck.
I ruined some nicer (more expensive) yellow jeans (don’t ask), but I did get complimented on them when I still stubbornly wore them:
«How did you make those jeans?»
Oh, I washed them with some other shitty jeans that I should not have. It bled all this red shit.
«Cool. They look really cool.»
Thanks, I guess …
I hate Ecko.

This is the Ecko store on the corner near the crosswalk in the LV Premium Outlets, and boy howdy was it hopping when I stopped in.
I can almost guarantee that I’m one of the few Ecko shoppers that uses the phrase boy howdy, if the crowds that day were any indication. But I dig it. They had a DJ in the store making some pretty bumping music, and the place was packed. It was less than two weeks before Christmas, so I would only expect it to be busy like that. And with the crowds came a little bit of a mess. But not an unacceptable amount.
That Mark Ecko likes to put his name on everything. And not usually in small ways. I’m not sure I wanna rep the man all the time, but I did find pair of jeans and shirt that were a little more understated. That’s a win.