Maybe It’s Just a Shirt

As someone whose creative process has previously been motivated by anger — ranting and raving about whatever thing I dislike that week: influencers, pandemic, the Internet, or the hollow existence that is fashion. When I became content I realized suddenly there was little to moan about. So perhaps for a change, it’s worth writing about something that I like. Shirts for instance, specifically Gitman Vintage.

Their shirts are odd. The buttons are small yet annoyingly thick, their seasonal items rarely come in my required extra small, and they’re pricey. Yet somehow, I own four and cannot wait to obtain more.

The first I purchased was a Need Supply collaboration — a symphony leopard print. But, the heavy Oxford cloth complete with tiger stripe lining makes it too warm to be an effective summer shirt. Combined with the camp collar and its associations (which I would rather avoid), it often ends up in the back of my closet. And yet, I bought another. 

Snake print, soft, and flowy. However, it wrinkled too quickly and I hate ironing. It’s perfect for layering but too short to comfortably tuck in. And the snake print: too much, even for me. And yet, I bought another. 

Made to Order. Green seersucker, popover, button-down collar, and my initials embroidered on the cuff. It’s perfect. Except that it’s too slim, cost way too much, and took four months to get. And yet, I bought another. 

Tweed, slouchy, beautiful. Too heavy to wear indoors, too thin to wear outside. It’s neither an overshirt nor a chore jacket. Confusing. And yet, I kept it.

Maybe most Gitman oxfords are normal. Maybe I bring this upon myself by purchasing odd seasonal items. Regardless, I can’t stop buying them. 

The Met currently has an exhibit on American designers. Though they managed to source some decent items, the presented truth is harsh: America has birthed few truly talented designers. And yet, American “style” has continually been at the center of the fashion universe for decades.

The difference is that American fashion has few figureheads. America’s influence on fashion has been built on the backs of brands like Gitman, Camber, and Red Wing. Brands staffed by faceless laborers hidden from the spotlight. Laborers who stick around as companies export production to the lowest bidder. Brands like Gitman are equivalent to the band playing on the sinking ship, willing to die for a way of life that has long since passed. Brands that have realized the limelight isn’t important, that life isn’t about making a difference or impact really, it’s about touching the hearts of an important few. 

Or maybe, it’s just a shirt.