January last year I toured Red Wing boots factory in Minnesota. It was insanely cold that week – I swear they closed every heater before I got there – but watching James hand-stitch Iron Ranger boots was a sight to see. His hands were moving so fast thanks to years – decades – of repetition that it seemed like he wasn’t even working hard. He’s been working at Red Wing for 31 years and when I asked him why he hadn’t retired yet he laughed and said, “What am I going to do? Gardening? I’m a bootmaker.”
That was when it clicked for me. These boots were going to cost me $350. $350!! Just hearing that price made my wallet tighten because that’s more than I like to spend on anything wearable on my body. But watching James work… knowing that this dude could teach five guys how to make boots in the time it took me to tie my shoe. Understanding that this wasn’t just manufacturing. This was a craft. That these boots were better because James wasn’t working alongside assembly line robots, he was carrying on techniques perfected by artisans who came before him… When I left that place I knew that $350 was damncheap.
TL;DR: I used to not care where my clothes were made. Honestly, up until about six years ago I didn’t care where my clothes were made. Target? Great. Old Navy? Sure. J.Crew on sale? Yup bought that too. Jessica liked to joke that if I disappeared someone could dress me with holes randomly spit out by a computer algorithm and you’d never know I wasn’t fashion forward. Hint: you would know.
But after Red Wing I started caring more. And by caring I don’t mean freaking USA! USA! bandeader tossing money at stuff because it says made in America on the tag. I still buy clothes made in places all over the world. My favorite sweater is from Scotland. I have shoes from Italy. (Don’t even get me started on my love of cashmere.) But I do make a conscious effort to support American manufacturing when I can. When it makes sense for my budget, but also when it makes sense for the product I’m buying.
Ever since Red Wing I’ve kind of gone factory tour crazy. Whenever a brand offers me the chance to see where their clothes are made I take it. Visiting shirt factories in North Carolina where women have been operating the same sewing machines for two decades. Hunting leather goods tanneries in Chicago that could tell you the age of any hide just by holding it. Touring necktie factories in NYC teaching age-old skills most people don’t realize aren’t practiced at home anymore. Every time I leave one of these places I feel like a lucky dude who’s caught a small glimpse into this world of American craftsmanship that’s on the decline.
Let’s walk through some of my favorite American made brands that I think are worth your hard earned money. Brands that don’t slap American flags on everything they make but are still making incredible products that support jobs in the USA.
Alden Shoes is the absolute best American made footwear company out there. Operating out of Middleborough, Massachusetts since 1884, Alden makes some of the finest men’s shoes being produced today. I have three pairs: a shell cordovan pair I’ve been wearing for four years that have developed the most gorgeous patina. A suede chukka boot that feels like they were molded to my feet. And a pair of loafers I’m currently breaking in. Expect to spend $550-$750 for most styles. But these shoes are built to be resoled, not replaced.
When I visited the factory a couple years ago I was shocked. Did you know they do over 130 steps to construct a single pair of shoes? Every person I talked to had been working there for at least ten years. Many for twenty-plus. A handful even told me they worked there alongside their fathers, making it three or four generations strong. When I asked the factory manager what made American shoemaking different than anywhere else he didn’t hesitate. “We’re not trying to make shoes. We’re trying to make the best shoes.”
Gitman Bros is where I buy all my dress shirts now. Watching these women in Ashland, Pennsylvania run bolt after bolt of fabric through industrial sewing machines with millimeter precision is a thing of beauty. They’re sewing on collars and doing button jetting that would take me hours to unsuccessfully figure out on my own. Gitman sells their oxfords for about $165-$195 depending on the cloth. That’s three, sometimes four times what you’ll spend at Target. But let me tell you something – after wearing a both, you’ll notice the cheap shirts start to warp after a few washes. They lose their color. The stitching starts to come loose. But my Gitman Oxford stays crisp shirt after fifty washes.
Gitman sew single needle stitching. Match their patterns at the seams. Reinforce gussets. All tiny things you never notice when looking at a shirt but take notice when your shirt starts to age. My oldest Gitman is pushing five years old and looks better now than when I bought it.
Let’s talk jeans. When it comes to domestic manufacturing you can’t get more American than denim. Denim is king in the good ol’ US of A. Raleigh Denim out of North Carolina are making some of the finest jeans right now. Period. I think they hold their own with Japan, and thats saying something. Husband and wife team Victor and Sarah began Raleigh in 2007 and have since built an American denim brand that can hang with the best of them. They use vintage machinery (some rescued from bankrupt factories!) and craft jeans that grow better with you over the years instead of falling apart.
I bought into my first pair around five years ago, and have since added two others to my collection. At $295, they’re not cheap. (Jess still teases me about spending that much on jeans.) But for the life those jeans have given me I’ll gladly pay it. Where else can you spend that kind of money and have your jeans outlive multiple cheaper pairs? Watch them develop natural fades instead of wearing thin and ripping at the seams? Raleigh sources their denim from Cone Mills White Oak, which was – until it shut down in 2017 – America’s last surviving selvedge denim mill. Luckily Raleigh was smart and stock piled Cone’s denim when they announced the closing.
When Victor showed me around their workshop he pulled out a notebook. Every pair of jeans they produce has its own sheet where Victor maps out the fade pattern he wants based on the lot of denim being used. “These aren’t just jeans,” Victor told me. “They’re the blank canvas for the next ten years of your life.”
It’s cheesy but true. Look at my oldest pair of Raleighs.
You can see the wear pattern on my right thigh where my phone rests when I walk. The fading on my back pockets where my wallet constantly rubs. If you studied those creases you can literally map out how I walk, sit, fold my jeans to take a crap.
Hackwith Design House is another Minnesota company I discovered by luck. Jessica picked up one of their women’s dresses and raved about the quality so I took a look at their menswear. Wow. Their heavyweight cotton sweaters have been my uniform all winter. Heavy enough that I can wear them without a jacket but refined enough to still wear them downtown. They only do made to order production which limits waste and overstock. Price point reflects that Minneapolis production and limited quantity business model but trust me when I say the quality is worth every penny. Most of their men’s sweaters run $175-$250.
Filson has been going strong since 1897. Founded in Seattle these days you can’t throw a rock without hitting a hipster wearing Filson. But that doesn’t mean their gear isn’t absolutely built to last. Filson = obsession for me when it comes to bags. I’ve had my Filson brief for eight years now. Taken to fashion week in Milan, London, and NYC. Stuffed through countless airplane overhead bins. Used as a seat during flight delays. The twill has softened and the color has faded into a beautiful patina that tells the story of eight years worth of travel. Once someone in London even offered to buy it off of me for double what I paid. (I’m glad I said no.) It wasn’t cheap at around $350 but considering I’ve used that bag daily for nearly a decade it was money well spent.
Southwick has been cutting suits and blazers in Massachusetts since 1929. Now owned by Brooks Brothers they operate a factory in Haverhill MA staffed with some of the finest tailors around. Half of my wardrobe rotates around this navy Southwick blazer. After four years of wear it has molded perfectly to my body thanks to the half canvas construction. The fabric has even held up after countless wears. Prices are on par with Italian and English makers ranging from about $900-$1,200 for suits depending on fabric. But these guys can hold their own quality wise.
I’m excited to see younger brands bring domestic production back to more modern clothing. Taylor Stitch is a brand based out of San Francisco producing responsibly made clothing that feels like classic American workwear but with modern cuts. Their Heavy Bag T-shirts are made in Los Angeles from recycled materials. They’re thick without being bulky and have been my daily go-to casual shirt because they’re hardy enough to wear on their own but refined enough to layer under other layers.
What I love about companies like Taylor Stitch is they are forthcoming with where their clothes are made and why. They won’t bullshit you by saying everything is made in house if they only cut and sew a small portion of their stuff in house. If they can’t produce a piece domestically at an affordable price point they’ll tell you. No flowery marketing language to confuse you.
Hell, even Danner in Portland continues to make some of the best hiking boots on the planet right here in Oregon. Their Mountain Light hikers were even used to make all the boots in that Cheryl Strayed movie Wild. I’ve had mine resoled twice and they still go stronger than any other boots I own.
The last thing I’ll mention is something I think every consumer forgets about when talking about buying American made. All of these brands offer repair services. When your stuff is made in America you can send it back to the manufacturer to be fixed. Red Wing will resole your boots. Filson will repair your bag. Alden can literally take your shoes apart and rebuild them from scratch. Every single brand I’ve toured has employees dedicated to repairing their products. That’s another level of meaningful employment these brands are helping provide.
American made will never be cheap. Period. If you want things made in America they’re going to cost you more. There’s a reason for that. Labor costs are higher. Regulations on environmental practices are stricter. Supply chains are shorter. But that also means a lot of American made is out of reach for a lot of people which creates this weird system where domestic manufacturing is considered a luxury when it really should be the standard.
The only solution I’ve found is to rethink the way I buy clothes. Buy less but buy better. Care more about what I’m buying so I can care for it properly when I get home. Sure some things add up. Buying three $25 shirts that you’ll only get one season out of or purchasing one $75 American made shirt that will last you years? Cost you about the same upfront but the value you get changes drastically.
For me though the biggest reason to buy American made has nothing to do with the actual product you’re buying. Its about the people making that product for you. Everybody I’ve met touring factories takes insane pride in what they do. Thats not just a job, thats a career. Thats an identity.
The patternmaker at Gitman who has spent the last thirty years refining how a shirt should fit. The guy cutting hides at Alden that can evaluate any piece of leather just by picking it up and feeling it. The sewing machine operator at Filson whose name is embroidered into every bag she works on.
These skilled trades form the backbone of an American economy that’s been pushed further and further into obscurity as factories close and careers are replaced with computers. Buying American made may not single handily revitalize the industry but my tours have shown me that companies are hiring more workers and purchasing more equipment as demand grows. Every pair of Alden shoes you buy is keeping their factory in operation. Every pair of Raleigh jeans sold helps that family business afford to keep hiring more workers.
Buying American made clothes won’t change the world but it will make you a part of it.
That I can get behind.
The Iron Highland Boot
