Iggy Goleczynski

"I had these (sideburns) in '69," he explained, the tones of his native Poland coloring his voice. "It was pissing my father off. He said 'Only hoodlums and guys in and out of jail wear those.' I was in a group of people that never wore what the general public did - I was punk before there was a name for it."

Forced from his homeland nearly 30 years ago, the 49-year-old immigrant has brought his rebel spirit to America - offering New Jersey-area skinheads, ska lovers, reggae fans, mods and punkers a place to buy the hard-to-find accoutrements of their respective styles.

"I'm a punk more than a skinhead ... they'd call me a skunk in England," he said, stretching his arms to reveal a tattoo of three people, all different colors, between two olive branches. "There's a closeness and camaraderie that's different ... I love it. I was into that before most of these kids were born."

Goleczynski's tiny shop, named for the British-based, mid-'7Os revival of ska music, serves as a tribute to counterculture life - with dozens of different suspenders ("braces" in skin- speak) flight jackets, work pants and Doc Marten style workboots banging from the walls.

Here, the importance of music, fashion and style for skinheads and punks is clearly evident. With a steady stream of young skins coming in to peruse Goleczynski's used copies of old Specials albums or tattooed punks with strawberry-colored hair trying on the latest Doc Martens, Two Tone has become something of a mecca for punks and skins.

Want to find a poster from the very first Asbury Park show by legendary punkers the Clash? Or an album by the black skinhead band Simaryp? Or a fanzine explaining the non-racist roots of skinhead culture?

It's all on the shelves or in his catalog. But don't waste time looking for anything connected with racism. Goleczynski said he won't even allow skins with racist tattoos, jewelry or patches in his store.

"I hate to talk to them (racist skins) even ... it just makes me sick," said the storekeeper, who spreads the word about antiracist protests and activist groups through his store. "It comes from my home... how I was raised. I'm trying to counteract all that racist stuff ... to show that you can wear boots, listen to Oi! music and not be racist."

Goleczynski's distaste for authority extends back nearly three decades to the year he left Poland, The son of a local judge, he was expelled from his homeland for participating in student riots protesting the invasion of Czechoslovakia by the Polish army.

Eventually, he wound up in Brooklyn with relatives. There, he found a job making more money than he could ever earn in Poland, and an emerging punk scene that felt like home.

By the late '70s, Goleczynski was ready to start his first store, convinced by his then-wife to locate it in New Jersey. (The couple have since divorced, with his ex-wife assuming ownership of their other store in Montclair.)

"It's easy to make money on a punk and skinhead store in New York," said the shopkeeper, who now runs Two Tone with his live-in companion, avowed punker Carolyn Raba. "I like spreading the word (in Passaic). It's a challenge."

'"Most of the skins we know are all different cultures ... black, white, Asian or whatever," added Raba, brushing stray strands of blond hair past her eyebrows tinted a distinctive apple green. "They know what it's like to he oppressed."

Lt. Daniel Reed, of the Passaic County prosecutor's Office of Bias Crime and Community Relations, recalled his first meeting with Goleczynski: "I think I got a call from someone ahout a skinhead store and went to check it out. I quickly realized it wasn't racist - which I didn't believe, anyway, not in that part of Passaic. He seems like a good guy, and he's definitely connected in the scene. I ended up asking if they would speak to community groups to let them know the difference (among skinhead types)."

Though the speaking engagements have not yet materialized, Goleczynski did attempt to organize a group of anti-racist, activist skins in the late '80s, but found, alter years of trying, that it was too much trouble.

"People got arrested and fined, and we didn't even get support from punks," explained the shopkeeper, who said he spent more than $3,000 on legal fees, fines and bail money following one protest.

"Everybody thought we were a gang, he explained. "Everywhere we went were people who would fight with us - wanting to test us. I almost went out of business. There's five people in jail and nobody has money (for fines) but Iggy."

These days, Goleczynski's store is guarded by his longtime companion, a pugfaced dog that ambles out leisurely to inspect each newcomer. It's only after petting him and scratching his head awhile that you notice it's a pit bull.

It seems the perfect example for the nonracist skinheads in Iggy's world.

"Once you get to know them, they're nice kids," insisted Goleczynski. "When a bunch of skins come into the store, I have a great time. You don't have to fit some sort of mold to be a good kid."

- Eric Deggans