I first met Tommy Litle in third grade football; he came to practice on Halloween wearing a handmade Stewie Griffin costume. From that moment, it seemed like Tommy and I were the only ones enjoying practice, so we stuck together through that season. After that I forgot about Tom, there was no social media, and we didn’t have cell phones so we never stayed in touch. Gordon Cummings was a friend I met in 2012 at my friend’s little league baseball game. Everyone told me he was so smooth at hockey that he got recruited by a private middle school. We hung out through mutual friends, but I always thought he was a soft hockey kid, so I didn’t really think he was anything special. He would come home on the weekends with this blonde kid from school and they would hang out downtown Newburyport, Massachusetts, my home town, so I would see them around. It wasn’t until one night when his friend started messing with all the TVs in the local pizza joint to piss of the owners, that I started to become closer with the two of them. We were laughing for so long just watching the reactions of the people eating there when we turned the volume up to 100. I felt like I had found the kids that just understood my sense of humor. I came to find out that Gordon's bleached haired friend was also my old football buddy, Tommy. As we hung out we grew closer together and built crazy memories that sound like stories your dad told you about the 80’s. We didn’t even know that we had picked up right where we left off. They had one more kid to complete their madness, Jonathan. Along with them and one of my childhood best friends, Bradley, I became a part of a clique full of kids that I would give the clothes off my own back to. Growing up, everybody admired our ability to take risks, and we had a certain swagger that was unmatched in our area. We couldn't be fucked with, and we knew how to have fun. The circle stayed small, but our network extended to kids from all over New England. We would link up on Bayne Lane, at Tommy's crib, where we dabbled in everything; photos, music, reselling, and finally fashion design.
Today Tommy is across the country in San Francisco, Gordon is pursuing his puck dreams with the Boston Jr. Bruins, Jonathan is finishing up school in Beverly, MA, Bradley is traveling the world, and I have moved to Miami to get an MBA. Our safe house back home has been sold, and were all grown up, but nobody has ever been like the Bayne Lane Gang, and nobody ever will be.
Now, our ideas are produced in a factory and we are able to share what streetwear means to us with people from across the globe. It is my pleasure to present to you, Bayne Lane, a brand by Tristan Cassidy, from Boston to the world.