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Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?

There were many fans of the TV show Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?, which was popular at the time—not only popular, a phenomenon. It was hosted then by Regis Philbin, who started wearing dark-colored shirts and matching ties on every show. Suddenly, that combination became very popular: nobody had ever seen that look before, he looked terrific every evening, and he started a new trend in men’s fashion. Someone (I don’t remember who) proposed offering Regis a deal to develop a line of shirts (made by us) and ties (made by our licensee) for him. The key to this type of arrangement is a master licensor with clout. In this case, it was to be our own company: the shirts were the key because the ties needed the shirts.

I’ve always been skeptical about gimmicks in fashion because I’m concerned they won’t stand the test of time, but the vice chairman of the company, Allen Sirkin, thought the idea was worth exploring. I asked how much he thought we could sell of such a product line, and he said, “I think we could do between 100,000 and 200,000 dozen shirts a year for the next few years.” That was a lot of shirts—and also a lot of money—if he was right: a potential $25 million. The vice chairman overseeing the shirt division had a strong track record; he knew how to develop a product line, and he knew how many and which stores would sell this type of product. He convinced me we had a shot at succeeding at this, and so I decided to approach Regis and see if I could negotiate a deal.

We found out who Regis’s agent was—Jim Griffin with William Morris Agency (now retired)—and Lee Terrill, division president, and I went to see him. Jim had already spoken to Regis about what we were interested in doing, and he told us, “Regis is interested, but it will be $1 million on signing and $1 million a year for the next two years.” That was pretty big money by anyone’s standard, and I told him I’d think about it.

Frankly, I didn’t know how we were going to come up with $3 million. I wasn’t at all sure I was prepared to invest that kind of money just because our shirt division was confident it could sell Regis Philbin shirts. I came up with an idea. I met with Allen and his associates and said, “We’re going to start a bidding war for the ties. We’re going to create a situation where the ties are bigger than the shirts. We think they can sell more ties, because the ties are one-third or one-half the price of the shirts. Also, because men could buy anybody’s solid-color shirts, we’ll package some shirts and ties together, because I think the tie part of the deal is huge.”

We called in the three largest American tie companies and asked them what they could do, and I started a bidding war. I really wanted to do the deal with the tie company that was our licensee on other products, and so I told each tie company that the only way it could get the deal was if we split all the royalties and that we needed to offer some big guarantees to William Morris, which was representing Regis. I told them, “I need $1 million from you on signing and a guarantee of $1 million a year for two years, and if you can come up with that, I’ll stop the bidding war and the deal is yours.”

Our licensee came back to us the next day and guaranteed $1 million on signing and $1 million a year for the next two years. In other words, I got the shirts for free. We still paid a royalty for every shirt we sold. But I found a way to do this deal, which I didn’t have my full heart in because it was risky, I didn’t think it was good for the long term, and after hearing Regis’s terms, it wasn’t so simple, either. I agreed to do the license with Regis, but the negotiation with the tie company was what allowed us to go forward, because we had all the leverage. And in the end everybody made money.

Unfortunately, the product line lasted only about two years. That’s what fashion is about, after all: at some point in time things fade. The Millionaire show started to wane. Also, every other company started making dark-colored shirts, and so we lost our first-to-market advantage and the market was flooded with competition. Consumers didn’t need to buy our shirts even though we were packaging them with matching ties.

Still, it was a great deal while it lasted. We held a joint press conference hosted by me and Regis to announce this fashion collaboration. It was held at the Four Seasons because Regis preferred that restaurant and we were to have lunch afterward. The press coverage was extraordinary. Every news outlet was there: local and national newspapers and all the TV networks and cable stations. They all covered it, and over the next few days it ran on and on.

Eventually, two unexpected things happened as a result of this press conference. The first happened about a year later: Regis wrote a book that mentioned the wonderful lunch we had afterward. He also pointed out that in our enthusiasm, we had stiffed him for the bill. Very funny.

The second thing that happened was not so funny but revealed interesting company politics. The Monday after the press conference, Bruce asked me into his office. He said he’d held a dinner party in his house on Saturday night and everyone who was there had seen the Regis coverage. His guests kept inquiring, “I thought you were the president of the company. Who’s this guy Mark Weber with Regis?” Bruce said he and his wife were embarrassed, and therefore he would handle any future press coverage opportunities for the company. My role as front man was back-burnered for a time. Once again, human nature reared its head.