In 1993, Gap set out to pull off a nearly impossible feat – to turn khakis into something sexy. During the brand’s early decades, Gap had made a name for themselves in the world of denim, but by the late eighties they had expanded into the world of basics. For the majority of Americans who did their shopping in the interchangeable chain stores of America’s cookie-cutter malls, Gap was their homogenous headquarters. With their unexceptionable line of essentials, Gap provided customers with a reliable (albeit mundane) respite from the bright colors and rampant individuality that marked much of the style’s of the sixties and the seventies. They became the epitome of average, but Gap was comfortable with this title, as they hawked out their beige rainbow of nondescript designs to the masses, and watched their stock soar. By the early nineties though, Gap had become like two pieces of white bread, and business was petering out – not only were their designs unremarkable but they were beginning to make what was underneath these clothes seem equally as tedious.