In conversation, Mr. Jermyn speaks softly and mixes short, lucid sentences with longer, less coherent remarks. He has been arrested more than a dozen times since 1986 for violations such as trespassing and jaywalking, according to court records. Most of his skating and curb-side dancing now takes place near Robertson Boulevard, but in the past he roamed throughout Beverly Hills and West L.A., often cradling a boombox and shimmying to loud music.“He was always an extraordinary dancer,”says Jim Horne, a classmate of Mr. Jermyn’s at Los Angeles Baptist High School.
In addition to his sister, Mr. Jermyn speaks regularly with Ginny Berliner, a 64-year-old woman who befriended him when she owned an antique shop on Robertson. Mrs. Berliner, who now lives in Maryland, used to pay for Mr. Jermyn to sleep in a motel and covered his monthly coffee bill at Michel Richard, the well-known patisserie.“He wants notoriety and glory, but he can’t accept money,”she says.
On a recent afternoon, clad in his trademark black leggings and visor, Mr. Jermyn said he is“a facilitator”for the brand, and hopes it will expand into music or film. He has become a one-man marketing team, plastering company stickers and pictures of himself on a wall that faces pedestrians on Robertson.
At Kitson’s boutiques and on its Web site, the first shipment of“Crazy Robertson”women’s clothes—about 35 items—sold out in three days, and the store immediately ordered about 90 more pieces, according to owner Fraser Ross. Many of the online buyers were not from Los Angeles and presumably not familiar with Mr. Jermyn, he says. The brand may have appeal beyond L.A., says Mr. Ross, because its name includes“Robertson,”which like Rodeo Drive is a destination associated with glamorous shopping.