The progenesis of the idea came as Tag, creative director for a major Chicago advertising firm, already frustrated with the seeming futility of spending months on a thirty second commercial spot, only to have the effort disappear in two weeks, saw a fourteen by forty eight foot test run vinyl billboard heaved into the trash. The proverbial light bulb went off. He decided to cram the huge, improperly and vividly colored vinyl sheave into his Mini Cooper.
Teaching himself to sew at night, after putting in seventy hour weeks at work, Tag produced a prototype bag of crude stitching and loud colors. He continued on this path, improving sewing techniques, seeking advice and tips from Chicago area sewing companies, and dismantling dozens of military surplus bags. With each attempt at constructing a bag out of reused materials, Chris Tag did so with an intention of inserting that Dayton ethos of creation and manufacture he knew from his childhood.
Validation came – after long hours of studying and reverse engineering, and reincarnating old materials – a few bags were sold to coworkers at the advertising firm Tag was working for, and even a few fellow commuters on the Metra train. The business was born. He amassed literally tons of military surplus tarps, bicycle tubes, and other accoutrements in his basement, till the supply outgrew his space. A spot in a warehouse building with a history of manufacturing – including narrative of an alleged sweatshop once residing in the very space to be occupied – was procured.