Most people never even look at a tag inside a garment. They might care about the brand name or the designer, the price might be the ultimate driver of what they are buying. Mostly it feels like the majority of people aren’t buying things with a lot of strategy in mind. Buying American made is mostly an abstract concept that people know or care very little about.
In the book American Flannel, writer Steven Kurutz finds the people who care so deeply about where and how their clothes are made. At the center of the story are a few characters from domestic manufacturers who have made the decision to do the impossible and continue to make clothes domestically.
If I had a pull quote in support of American Flannel it would be this: “I f/cking love this stuff.”
That was my genuine sentiment as I read the book. I have dealt with the issues of American manufacturing so much in my career, I would go so far as to say it’s my calling. Reading these stories brought out all of the emotional baggage and pride of what made in the USA means to me. It’s a beautiful and troubling story of the harsh realities of globalization.
Telling the stories I have with ACL have been the most emotionally and creatively important thing I have done in my career. I hate to get into the personal stuff in a post that I am making public, but I have struggled with the inherent conflict of my work. I hate marketing and think it sucks. I never wanted to be a part of that machine. The only way I could justify it was to work for brands I loved. Marketing feels different when you are incredibly proud of the product.
How could you not love companies who did the impossible everyday by continuing to make beautiful things when the entire town, the total industrial-base got eviscerated. Working with Red Wing, J.W. Hulme, Levi’s Vintage Clothing, Crockett & Jones, Buck Mason, Lotuff, Filson, Faribault, Viberg, NWKC, Sunspel and so many more manufacturing companies (here and abroad) has been a dream. Everything I own from these brands remains cherished and I wouldn’t want it any other way.
I’m drawn to companies that only care about quality. It’s not a race to the bottom to get margin so the company can pump-out the performance marketing. This is Field of Dreams type sh/t right here — if you build it they will come. In 2024 this is a risky and rare way to exist commercially. Red Wing bought nearly its entire supply-chain in order to continue to exist. Alden has to build a huge additional warehouse so it can stockpile materials to give it time when the next supplier goes under. These companies aren’t normal because nothing about making things in America is normal. These businesses are special. The people who continue to obsess over quality, who resist the easy and expected path of offshore everything are a different breed. I’m thankful for Steven and American Flannel to tell the stories of these amazing people.
I’m thankful for American Flannel so people can better understand the realities and the passion that is still out there — despite all of the challenges. We have the rare opportunity as consumers to do something powerful with our money. We can cast aside impulse and boredom to buy things with intention. We can reward the crazy people who still care about how and where something is made. We can buy something with real value. When we do this we get rewarded twice. We buy something made with passion, determination, decades of knowledge and by doing so we support our community. We also get something of true quality that will last. It’s crazy to think we would consider any other way.
Like Steven I’m nostalgic. I want Woolrich to still be making wool cloth in Pennsylvania. I felt legitimate sorrow when Cone Mills closed the White Oak plant. I was lucky enough to have visited the mill while it was still in operation and will never forget those machines, that wood floor and the sound of the production floor. With each plant closure the emotions come flooding back and I’m reminded to appreciate what we have while we have it. That’s my take-away from American Flannel. These people and these companies are special and should be celebrated. I’m incredibly proud to have played a small role in advocating for American manufacturing. This isn’t about politics or nationalism, this is about the preservation of a craft and a way of life. I’m grateful that Steven told my story. Most of all I’m glad to know that because of this book more people will understand what it truly means to carry the words made in the USA on a label. It might be a sweatshirt or a pair of socks to us, but to others it’s their entire life.