As the summer winds to an end, and the nights cool, our collective eyes look to the cornucopia of crops and the biodiesel found within a Ben Franklin butter statue...

Or something like that, just stay away from Farmer Dan's Martha's Vineyard veggies if you know what's good for you, Hurricane Earl {Campbell?}.

This week's AOL wrap-up brings you the story of Farm Boy & Girl, a clothing company that specializes in cow-and-chicken-themed apparel, sly sloganeering ("Cock of the Walk") and authentic 100% cornfed hot young Midwestern models. 

You're welcome. As a thank-you for your continued support, enjoy a bumper crop of Farmer's Daughter jokes. Gets randy out there under the harvest moon. 

I also interviewed a dude whose love of all things penguin led him to a quirky career as a purveyor of penguin paraphernalia, a publisher of the Penguin Post, and a position as the Aptenodytes patagonicus of penguin partisans.

Topic of the day: Best penguin ever? Chilly Willy, Tennessee Tuxedo, Mario Lemieux, Burgess Meredith, Wheezy or Mr. Pin?

My vote? Opus. Waddle with me, won't you...

Why Didn't I Think of That? Farm Boy & Girl, Farm-Inspired Fashion

Consider it Abercrombie with a country twist. How two Minnesota natives made farm clothing hip and turned it into a $2.5 million company.

Sure, Old MacDonald had himself a successful farm, but these days, an oink oink here and a moo moo there just doesn't cut it. Farm Boy & Girl was started by two Minnesota natives who had grown up on farms and didn't think their culture was well represented in the fashion world.

In 2002, Dan Adamson and Brian Goldenman decided to test market a new line of clothing at the Minnesota State Fair, one of the largest gathering of livestock owners (not too mention butter sculptures) in the nation. They brought a selection of T-shirts and hats with slogans such as "Farm Boy Field Sports: Watch Where You Step," and attendees ate it up like the fair's signature dish, walleye on a stick.

Penguin Place's Eric Bennett: A Long March to Success

For nearly a quarter-century, Eric Bennett has built a successful business selling penguin-themed merchandise. "I never met a penguin lover I didn't like," he says.

Entrepreneurial inspiration can come from just about anywhere, even the frozen landscape of Antarctica -- or at least its waddling, plumed, flightless, fish-eating residents. Many years ago, Queens, New York, native Eric Bennett had a girlfriend who had a thing for penguins. Collecting penguin-themed items became their thing, and his assortment grew to include stuffed animals, beer bottles, hockey jerseys and more. The relationship didn't last, but Bennett's love of penguins did, and they became his life's calling. Starting with a Penguin Place pushcart in 1984, Bennett's business grew to include stores, then catalogs and now a robust e-commerce site.

It should come as no surprise, then, that Bennett has built a career on the backs of everyone's favorite well-dressed birds. If March of the Penguins taught us anything, it's that the lovable little scamps are known to mate for life. As Bennet's "Webbed site" reads, "In the 24-plus years, Eric has stayed true to his passion and has never offered up a non-penguin item for sale, and claims to have never met a penguin or penguin lover he didn't like."

How did you go from an aficionado to running an actual penguin-themed business?

I graduated college in the early 1980s during a time of recession and never found a real job. People had been giving me all of these unique items and I'd talked to friends about selling penguin stuff. I'd recently been to Faneuil Hall in Boston, where they had little themed outlets, and I thought a penguin store would be a lot cuter than the ones focused on pigs or cows. It seemed like a fun idea, but the business truly started as a lark. The South Street Seaport [in Manhattan] opened in 1983 as a tourist destination, and one day I stopped and asked a security guard who I should talk to about a store. I filled out an application and by the time I'd gotten home on the train, someone from the Seaport had called and wanted to talk to me. It fit the nautical theme they wanted.

It was that simple?

They needed stores. Right away, they asked me when I could open. I said, "I know nothing about retail, I was a history major." I figured I'd need a bank account, a tax ID and a business license, but they let me take my time and go step-by-step putting it together. That was in October and I opened in April.

How much money did it take to get going?

I raised around $4,500. I had about $1,200 in the bank, sold my VW Karmann Ghia, and my dad gave me $1,000. It was weird that my dad lent me money, because he was a wallpaper hanger and a housepainter working on his third heart attack at the time. I didn't realize it then, but I do now, that his loan was a big deal. I started out with a pushcart. The standard lease was two weeks for $600, so it was one of the cheapest startups you could find.

How did your find your inventory?

This was before everything was computerized, so I would simply look at the labels of the stuff I owned, call up the company and ask what they had with penguins on it. The only storage I had was behind some steps we built, so we carried 50 or 60 small things like stuffed animals, mugs, pencils, ceramics, wind-ups and little tchotchkes. My first sale was to a woman looking for Band-Aids. She didn't care about the penguins -- her feet hurt.

 

(To read more of Penguin Place's Eric Bennett: A Long March to Success, click right here)