This is 99% invisible. I'm Christopher Johnson.

It's February 2nd, 2014, and you're balancing a plate of wings and blue cheese dip on your lap,

watching the Seattle Seahawks thrash the Denver Broncos into

Super Bowl. Then during one of the commercial breaks you see this ad. In the

middle of the screen it says Congo Brazzaville there's a group of men doing hard dirty work

clearing fields and fixing cars. In life we cannot always choose what you do, but you can always choose who you are.

Next thing you know, the ad cuts to a new scene.

It's the evening, and now we're at a bar.

This is producer Ryan Lenora Brown.

A crowd has formed a circle around those same men

who have shed their dirty work clothes for coral pink, canary, and bright tangerine colored suits.

One by one, the men proudly strut and pose, twirling their gold pocket watches, snapping their suspenders,

and shooting their cuffs as the crowd cheers them on.

In the corner, a bartender smiles approvingly as he pours a glass of Guinness.

You see my friends, with every brace and every conflict we say I am the master of my fate. I am the

captain of my soul. Okay so so I admit, at first glance,

it may seem a bit out of left field

that a group of Congolese men dressed

like an exquisitely elegant pack of highlighters

is out here selling Irish beer during the Super Bowl.

But actually, everyone from cinematographers to musicians to style mavens

have finally been catching on to this loose-knit collective of dandies called

...