I was at this absurdly pretentious men’s boutique in SoHo last month. You know the type. Expensive concrete floors, three garments hanging on the entire wall, hipster employees who auditioned for Twilight before realizing they’re too pale.
I was there interviewing the owner for a story, and every thirty seconds this guy would say the phrase “American heritage.” Like, dude. You started your brand in 2018. And you live in Westport.
So when he was telling me how his $400 jeans embody “the authentic spirit of the American frontier,” I couldn’t help but laugh into my $18 sparkling water. I love American classics as much as the next guy.
Probably more than I should, tbh.
My girlfriend Emma joked she was burning mystorage unit filled with vintage workwear that “smells like grandpa’s closet” last month. But when even normcore companies act like a pair of Levi’s is some mystical sacrament, I get weird about “heritage” advertising. See, what bothers me isn’t pretending your tee-shirt came from the 1950s.
It’s that brands pretend these clothes have some imaginary past they didn’t actually have. There’s this whole fabricated nostalgia being sold to us like it’s legit. Real American classics weren’t designed to be “classic.” They were designed to not suck at their job.
Case in point: 501s. We fetishize them now as if they’re historical garments, but they were originally work pants for men who were panhandling gold in California. There was no boardroom at Levi’s going, “Yeah, these pants will truly embody Americana.” They were more like, “How do we make pants that don’t fall apart when our miners are crawling around in a dark tunnel all day?” My grandfather worked at the local steel mill outside Pittsburgh for 39 years, and I asked him once what he thought of this “authentic reproduction work shirt” I bought from some company.
The faux vintage quad stitching probably cost more than my monthly rent. He held it up, examined the material, tried tugging his shoulders in the shirt. He busted out laughing. “This fabric would rip somebody’s back if they tried to break up rocks with it,” he told me. “This would’ve been shop rag material where I worked.” Everyone wants you to buy their clothes to “support the American worker.” My grandfather just wanted clothes that fit right and didn’t fall apart after three months.
But my biggest problem is these fictitious backstories companies give their clothes. I was at a trade show in Vegas last summer (*cries in heat*) and some brand rep cornered me to show off their new “historically accurate military reproduction” garments from… get this…. 1943.
Alright guys, I collect vintage military apparel for fun since college (*shouts into cloud*) so I started asking him questions about authenticity. Real stuff I wanted to know too- original contract numbers, weight of fabric, etc. He stared at me like I had two heads.
It turned out their so called “historical reproduction” garb was made up- they cherry picked details from various decades, mixed them together and came up with some fake story to go along with it. These guys weren’t preserving heritage- they were selling you expensive cosplay. That being said, not all American classics are made up.
The classic white t- shirt actually did originate as Union underwear in 1913, then became a casual sport after WWII broke out, eventually leading James Dean to wear one in Rebel Without a Cause and the rest is history. Ray- Bans were originally designed as sunglasses for pilots in the 1930s, and haven’t looked stupid since. These pieces became classics purely by being really good for decades.
They didn’t need some hype man in an oversized denim shirt telling you they’re cool. This is sort of how my friend Marcus worded it when he explained his feelings on the subject to me: “Is it actually good so it becomes classic? Or is it classic so we think it’s good?” Ask yourself that next time you’re looking at something trendy brands try to sell as American classics.
Because let me tell you how many things fall into category number two. Penny loafers are a consistent favorite- everyone acts like they’ve been around forever when they went in and out of style multiple times before making “comebacks” the past few years. Oxford shirts.
Same thing. They’re great shirts guys- don’t get me wrong. But just because they’ve been around a long time doesn’t mean their heritage isn’t manufactured.
The stories people come up with are hilarious if you know the truth. Companies want to tell you their khakis were alive during WWII but won’t mention their khakis were based on Brittan’s cavalry uniforms from India. They love telling you how rugged and “American” cowboy boots are but forget to mention how Western apparel was directly inspired by Spanish, Mexican, and Native American styles.
America’s coolest fashion moments were always when it stopped pretending to be purely American. Take leather jackets. I wrote about their history a few years back and this one American brand took serious issue with it.
Their whole brand identity was built around being “the original,” with billboards and print ads saying how their founder single- handedly invented leather jackets in the 1920s. But when I looked at old historical photos and actually studied vintage jackets, it was evident leather jackets had been developing at the same time worldwide- from military contractors to motorcycle companies to European designers. After I published the article, they pulled all of their ads from our site for three months because facts hurt their brand.
Consumer ignorance is apparently more valuable to them. Honestly most “all-American classics” weren’t even American to begin with. Desert boots?
Originally British, inspired by Egyptian sandals. Field jackets? Every army in the world has one.
Denim? Originates from the city of Nîmes, France. That name literally means “de Nîmes.” But who wants to advertise their jackets as “MULTINATIONAL DESIGN TRADITIONS THOUGHTFULLY CURATED BY OLIVE DRAB PEOPLE IN MISSOURI!” But what really gets me is the price points.
Last week I watched somebody pay $980 for a “heritage-quality reproduction” canvas work jacket in Brooklyn. Seriously. $980. I found the real deal 1950s jacket at a thrift store in Columbus, Ohio for fifteen dollars.
And yeah, the reproduction jacket was likely made better, with more historical detail paid attention to. But seriously- some guy is wearing custom made clothes that accurately replicate服装渲染 WHAT WORKERS WORE 70 YEARS AGO. I get that some reproduction companies are giving folks the opportunity to own vintage-style pieces that they could never afford.
But something about spending a month’s car payment on clothes that used to be worn by poor people just seems… wrong? Am I being overdramatic? Oh who am I kidding.
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I own an outrageously overpriced reproduction WWII flight jacket so I’m really just fronting. But I told myself it was because I couldn’t find an original that wasn’t falling apart and fitted me right. Which was probably true.
But I just really liked the jacket. We all have our hypocrisies with clothes. My friend David owns a vintage clothing shop in Chicago and gave me this theory I love telling people about.
He thinks the rise of obsession with American classics became worse as the actual American manufacturing left. “It’s like,” he said when I was up in Chicago last month. “We’re trying to be nostalgic for a country we’re killing. We outsourced all our manufacturing to Bangladesh and now we fetishize the clothes those factories used to make.” There’s something super sinister about buying a $400 “American heritage” shirt that was probably made by a child in unsafe conditions we’d never allow here at home. But I’ll give brands this- some smaller companies do care about the history and treating workers fairly.
I visited this workshop in Portland that hand makes bags on authentic machinery and techniques from the 1940’s. They could sell you guys on their lore all day, but they didn’t. They just care about the process and preserving traditional methods.
Meeting guys like that makes you realize how different they are than the faux- heritage corporations that churn out clothes no better than you. Look, I’m not trying to hate on anyone’s passions. Every generation thinks they’re reinventing tradition anyway.
Workwear nerds ten years ago weren’t more “authentic” than whatever the kids are into now. And the people actually making these originals weren’t trying to be “authentic,” they were just solving problems with what they had. Authenticity is kind of a stupid concept to care about with clothing, tbh.
My dad asked me if my jacket was vintage the other night when I was home for Christmas. It’s a new jacket, but based on an older style from the 1950s. When I told him it wasn’t vintage, he looked at me like I sprouted a second head. “Oh so this is costume apparel?” He said.
And do you know what I told him? Nothing. Halfway through my explanation of heritage styles and garment sourcing techniques, I laughed at myself.
At the end of the day, he didn’t understand why I bought a new garment that’s designed to look old. To him, there’s old clothes and new clothes. This new “older looking clothes” doesn’t make sense to him.
And honestly? He might be onto something. There’s this store in Manhattan I’ll admit I love browsing despite myself. $300 knock off Negro League jerseys from the 1930s.
Made in America. Incredible detail. Best part?
Authentic triple- padded shoulder look like the real jerseys had. I interviewed the owner about his sourcing last year and towards the end of the interview asked him where that profit went. You could’ve heard a penny drop over Zoom.
Some corporate bull about “helping to preserve history.” News flash- that’s exploiting culture if there ever was one. Sure they’re not hurting anyone by selling their shirts. But why not at least help those who were directly affected by what you’re peddling?
So what’s the solution? I’m not saying everyone should just wear vintage. Although that would be better for the environment.
And sure, old techniques and design details are important to keep around. I just wish brands were honest about what they’re selling. Stop telling me your brand that started in 2018 embodies “true American heritage” when your CEO just quit his job at Morgan Stanley last month.
Stop charging “heritage prices” on clothes built in Bangladesh with subpar construction. And maybe for once, acknowledge that American style never was meant to be preserved. It’s always been about taking lots of different influences from all over the world and mixing them together to make something new.
The most “true to American” garment in my closet is probably my dad’s Carhartt jacket from the 1980s. There’s holes patched up with tape throughout, grease stains he probably won’t let me get rid of, and the collar is so worn from rubbing his neck it’s basically napalm. He wore that thing to death working outside all those years.
And now I see some hipster down the street rocking a brand new version that they “distressed” themselves to look like they work manual labor, when they’re really just heading to pour over their graphic novels. My dad finds it hysterical. “They’re paying money to look poor,” he told me the other day. Maybe that’s the issue with American classics.
The originals were made for poor people because they had to wear durable clothes for work. Now we’re telling poor people they should aspire to wear our luxury-priced versions of their grandfathers shirts. It’s like buying trash bags that say Gucci on them.
It’s perfect, really.
And I’m completely guilty of participating. I’m not trying to pat myself on the back and act like I’m better than you.
I just think we should all admit we do it. There’s nothing wrong with wanting a nice shirt or spending extra to get a quality reproduction of something you love. It’s when we try to make up stories to justify our hobby that it becomes ridiculous.
Or you try to convince yourself that you wearing an $800 jacket that some dude in Indonesia sewed together somehow makes you more “American.” Next time you see some brand trying to brag about their “authentic American heritage” ask them a few questions. When was their brand actually founded? Where is their clothing made?
What problem was being solved when they initially created the style? More importantly, is the clothing good enough that it doesn’t need to lie about its history? Real Classics don’t ask you to believe in their mythology.
They just stand alone as pieces worth buying.
