T-shirts, sure, but Ramones flip-flops? Though the band barely sold records in their heyday, the punk icons have become a mighty retail presence in their afterlife. What’s behind their transformation from glue-sniffing rebels to tchotchke-hawking moguls?

BY DAVID BROWNE

Another day, another delivery of Ramones wear to the East Village home of Arturo Vega, the band’s former lighting director and art coordinator. (He designed their eagle insignia.) “More merchandise,” Vega says with a resigned smile, ripping open a box containing new T-shirts featuring the faces of Joey, Johnny, Dee Dee, and Tommy. In his apartment, Vega, who still consults on the group’s products, shows off his work: officially licensed shower curtains, pillows, and bar stools. On his laptop? Photos from surf-and-skate apparel company Hurley’s recent launch party for its new line of Joey Ramone clothing—T-shirts and board shorts featuring the late singer’s praying-mantis frame and black-waterfall hair.