Ragtime Cowboy Joe: UniformMarketNews.com

I’d like to say a few words about the cowboy shirt, (or perhaps I could hum a few bars if I were a Country Western singer).  For many, this particular item may be somewhat unfamiliar—either because one grew up in a part of the country that doesn’t have cowboys, or because one is just too young to have been exposed to the culture of the Old West.  But for those who do remember Hopalong Cassidy, Roy Rogers, and Gene Autry, they can readily acknowledge that the cowboy shirt is as much a part of our American heritage as those cattle punchers, themselves.

The actual garment, as it is today, was developed by Jack A. Weil, who came to Colorado in 1928, and eventually perfected a shirt that appealed to the modest income of the men who worked the open range.  Certainly, there were men herding cattle long before Weil, and who continued to do so even as the legend of the Wild West was coming to a close—a result of the settlers who came in droves. But Weil is the one credited with giving the official shirt its modern-day appearance.  As he said, the West is a state of mind: It didn’t have a specific place or time; he built on that concept, with the myth being more prominent than the reality.   

It was Weil who put snaps on the garments, for example, instead of buttons:  A snap couldn’t be torn off by barbed wire fences, a cowpoke was not going to sew on a missing button, and a steer couldn’t catch its horn in the button hole.  The broad yoke across the shoulders tended to make a man look larger, stronger; the tighter upper arms gave the appearance of bigger muscles, so that the cowboy tended to look as heroic as the legends that were written about him.  The sawtooth scalloped pockets kept tobacco pouches inside: Whereas a standard pocket was too open, these had flaps that snapped shut. Wide, snug cuffs kept dirt, campfires, and critters at bay.

The garments were worn regularly by presidents such as Johnson and Reagan, movie stars such as Elvis Presley and Robert Redford, and everyday folks just like you and me—cattlemen and city slickers alike.  Certainly, they became a part of the giant entertainment industry, whether it was “Gunsmoke,” “The Rifleman,” or “True Grit”—radio, television, and film.

So what, you ask, does all this have to do with uniforms?  Everything.  The whole purpose of the uniform is to set a person apart by defining his separate and unique role from the surrounding milieu.  It’s about identity.  It’s about sameness within a range of variation: Everyone who wears a uniform dresses alike, but stands for or is doing something different from those who are not wearing that very same clothing. 

The cowboy shirt thrusts an individual into a different culture, a different time period, and a different place from where he would ordinarily and otherwise be.  Yet, every cowboy can easily identify with all of the other cowboys because they have the same cowboy dress and the same cowboy values.  There is a sense of unity that is strongly present.

The everyday cowboy shirt, made of chambray, denim, a cotton flannel, cotton or a poly-cotton, is what is most commonly worn. They come in stripes, plaids, checks, solids, calicoes, and prints.  Referred to as work uniforms, the cowboy styling can be seen on the open range, or the plains behind a tractor.  It can be seen at the gas station, the repair shop, at the grocery store, or in church on a Sunday morning.  Many folks prefer the tighter western cut pants and the western-styled shirts to the standard cuts and looser fits.

Using the cowboy shirt for performances, it becomes a costume, but a uniform, nevertheless.  Everyone matches, basically does the same thing, and is set apart from the greater whole.  The great cowboy shirt designers, such as Turk and Nudie were extraordinary in their day—when legends such as Tom Mix, Rex Allen and the rest were all great idols who represented independent, rough-riding Americans. 

These shirts were and are still made with hand-set rhinestones, custom applied braid and cording, and embroidery discs that are thirty-forty thousand stitches per disc, with as many as six discs per shirt.  They’re made of heavy polyester, poly-wool, or charmeuse and satin fabrics, and cost upward of $500 per garment.  In and of themselves, they are works of art.

But make no mistake: When you watch the Rose Bowl parade or go to the state fairs; when you attend the National Western Stock Show in Denver, or follow the rodeos around the country; when you go to Nashville, or watch the round-up’s in Wyoming and the Northwest; if you travel to the Southwest or to National Park country; if you encounter a state patrol or the sheriff, you’ll see cowboy shirts.  

It’s a sad passing that the cowboy shirt isn’t as ubiquitous as it used to be, because it stands for a part of the American character and time that is becoming less and less of a presence.  It stands for American values that, like the shirt itself, are unique during all the history of civilization.   Pragmatic, practical, innovative, remarkable, stylish in an uncompromising and non-traditional way: That’s the American cowboy shirt, that’s the West that it represents, and that is the fiber of our nation.

       

Trends Or Traditions--Are Uniforms Still Uniform?: UniformMarketNews.com

A guy telephoned the other day and said that his corporation is going to revolutionize the uniform business.  He said that the bigger companies are antiquated, outmoded, and little more than fuddy duddy in an ever changing world.  Navy, grey, black, and burgundy are out.  So are classic and traditional.  He said people want uniforms that don’t look like uniforms.  They want style, fashion, flair, color.  Fabrics with zip and zing.  

He steered me to another manufacturer (whose catalogue looks pretty much like the others, just between us), but said that these folks had the greatest cocktail dresses, and that made all the difference.  Imagination with a swish: The wave of changing uniform styles, he insisted.  Could be.   But you couldn’t go by me.  The dresses were indeed lovely, albeit not for the chronologically or horizontally challenged. 

The uniform business today is pretty much open season.  That’s the good news and the bad news.  On the one hand, anything goes.  Everything from hot pants and halter tops, to ankle length skirts with finger tip jackets and jewel necklines. 

On the other hand, there are no real guidelines for buyers or sellers to follow, and no sense of place or decorum to set a style or a universal tone.  Some uniforms are so generic, that without their name badges or security I.D’s, it’s difficult to tell who the employees are.  A policeman pulled up to my shop the other day in a navy golf shirt and khaki shorts—I thought he was a camp counselor until he pulled his badge out of his pocket.

It’s tough for the customer to know what’s what; a sales rep who doesn’t know his client and the market—who hasn’t thoroughly done his homework—won’t have much luck making that sale if price points, delivery dates, and sparking the GM’s fancy, haven’t been key elements in his presentation.  It’s not unusual that today’s customer will want a blend of fashion from five or even ten different catalogues plus customization. 

Some companies want casual, some want more formal.  It doesn’t matter any more, because each company sets its own standards.  But don’t kid yourself; political correctness matters.  A restaurant wanted to order 300 custom made tops: A little bit of decollate with ruffling and a lower neckline.  Turns out, one waitress had a larger bosom but was modest.  All 300 garments had to be re-designed with a higher neck and extra buttons to cover one woman’s cleavage.

Some groups want polo shirts while some want woven shirts.  Others want a choice of both.  There are those who want uniform strength and laundering care, while others prefer a color or look that will not be found in more standard uniform garb.  Chances are ready-to-wear industrial shirts won’t come in hot purple, for instance.  There’s no call for them, no volume, no profit.  Conversely, you’ll find an entire group of Shriners on the golf course wearing cargo shorts in this very same regal shade.  Go figure.

Certainly, the traditional corporate motif remains the tried and true.  Despite the critic who distains the more conservative approach to uniforms, there’s a lot to be said for one style fits all—or almost all—and a dressier appearance that reports a sense of professionalism and pride in one’s position.  One can also say the same of the casual approach with the polo or camp shirt, and a sharp pair of slacks.  Of course, there’s always industrial garb with an enormous variety of shirts, pants, coveralls, jackets, and the like.  Hats, sweaters, aprons, gloves, belts, ties, and all kinds of accessories?  Of course.

But to be sure, with six generations in the workplace, new fabrics, global focus when doing business, the infusion of multi-culturalism, environmental awareness, more women, plus androgyny, what used to be called “the” uniform for a particular career position is just one of many styles in today’s world. 

Business organizations want blazers in off-shades:  Baby pink or turquoise blue for the gals, bright Popsicle orange or Kelly green for the fellows.  Female bartenders are into backless tuxedo vests that tie rather than have adjustable straps with slide buckles: “We don’t want to look like we’re wearing seat belts,” they say. 

Scrubs are taking on a whole new appearance.  The Asian look is “in.”  There are the standard O.R. types, and the upgraded cute prints, all in new and more flattering lines.  Then, there are the fabrics with patterns that are so color coordinated and stylish that the garments almost need a parasol and matching shoes to accompany them to surgery.  The other day, I had a woman call who wanted stethoscopes in multiple colors to match each of her outfits.   Do they exist?  Yes.

I think the winner of the Most Unusual Uniform Award goes to the infra-red camera company that wanted shirts and pants to match the color tomography it uses to test structural insulation temperatures. The bodies of the shirts were yellow with lime green sleeves, deep purple collar and cuffs, a royal blue placket, and a red pocket to match red pleated front pants.  The buttons were black.  Was the concept more innovative than a traditional scarlet red Victorian doorman coat with a silver and white striped Valencia vest?   Not in the slightest.  Just different.

Currently, all styles, fabrics, patterns and designs are in the forefront of the uniform industry.  It’s only a question of creativity and wise assessment in the mind of the salesperson when it comes to working with the customer.  It’s no longer about thinking outside the box; in today’s world, the boxes no longer exist.

Fit To Be Tied: UniformMarketNews.Com

Recent statistics tell us that a mere 6% of the eligible population wears neckties these days.  In Japan, it’s reported that working men and women, by taking off their coats and ties, are saving millions of dollars in energy costs because their offices can now be four degrees warmer as employees are four degrees cooler: A casualty of global warming.  All over the United States, from governors and mayors down to the working man on the street, folks are following suit.  For many companies, casual dress-down Fridays are now five days a week.

In the winter, turtlenecks suffice instead of the standard decorative neck accessory.  In the warmer months, golf shirts, banded collars, mock turtles, T-shirts, and Henley’s take center stage.  Two-piece stand collar shirts—button-down or no—are worn with or without a sports coat, but sans neckwear.  Even world leaders don’t wear ties any more, and if they do, it’s not as frequent as it used to be:  Comfort before protocol.

In some countries, it is standard bill of fare that no neckties are worn.  Particularly in Asian and Mediterranean countries, the tie is viewed as a symbol of decadent Western culture and values: Wanton capitalism and a kind of hedonism where purposeless beauty is valued over utilitarianism.

Truth be known, the tie has no practical value other than covering up a fat belly, buttons, or hidden food stains.  While one could argue that it keeps the neck warm and cozy, or that it holds one’s shirt together, the tie is really all about being a symbol of rank, status, school or organizational affiliation, and a piece of decorative beauty.  It can be very expensive or quite reasonable, depending on one’s purpose and pocketbook.  Generally, it is made of silk, wool, polyester, or cotton.  But it has also been made of the finest laces, and leathers. 

Ties represent a particular culture and time, depending on style and fabric.  The bolo tie, for instance, represents the American West’s cowboys and Indians.  The cravat is French, and goes back to the elegant days of Louis XIV at Versailles.  The ascot and jabot are inventions of the more Romantic 19^th century.  The bow tie is purported to have evolved from the cravat, originally being used to hold the collar of a shirt together, but is now paired with formal wear, buffoonery as with clowns, or with particular professions, such as doctors, attorneys, professors, and the like.  It is in a league of its own. 

The necktie itself, often called the four-in-hand tie (the knot resembles the reins of a four-horse team) really came into vogue with the Industrial Revolution in the mid 19^th century.  People flocked to cities rather than working the farmlands, and dress became more formal.  A worker needed a style that would not only keep out of the way when using machinery or doing his job, but at the same time urban culture was developing and the tie became a means revealing one’s place in society.  A banker wore a very different neck piece than a baker, for instance.

The necktie’s presence has been valued and maintained throughout the last two centuries, and a gentleman—no matter his income—would not be seen in public without his hat and tie.  This is particularly true of schools and the military.  The cliché “old school ties” is about more than good buddies and loyalties.  The necktie, with its rep stripes or club motifs, told about secret societies, fraternal orders, and officers’ standings.  Made from a wool Tartan or plaid, whole Scottish clans and their geographical locations were identified by their kilts, scarves, and ties. 

Today, however, such is not the case.  The tie has sadly become antiquated in the sense of general use.  When one figures that in China, as far back as the 3^rd century B.C., the emperor Shih Huan Ti was buried with the life size clay models of his 7,500 soldiers—each one different save for the fact that every soldier was wearing a silk necktie—it boggles the mind that within just the last decade, a tradition that has been around for over two millennia has all but unraveled. 

It’s true that some schools, preppy and corporate dress both for uniforms and for personal apparel still mandate ties.  Newscasters seem to be the last of the breed to sport the neckpiece in public.  But overall, despite the multiple offerings and the unusual designs that present themselves, the current fashion market has little demand for the tie.  Department stores are closing out their stocks, and uniform companies that specialized in neckwear are closing up.  Another tradition strangled by our rapidly revolving society. 

For women, it used to be that scarves were “in,” and for a while in the ’80’s, the newly defined feminist corporate career woman was all about the cross-over tie and various neck bows.  Security guards, and folks who want a perfect knot without the hassle of tying it themselves, go for a pre-tied clip-on style.  The good news about these is that they pull right off, and nothing or just a thin strap goes around the neck.  It’s a great safety feature, and also helpful for those folks who don’t or can’t have their necks bound tightly.  These, too, have been mostly abandoned.

The bottom line, if you’re thinking of going into the neckwear business, is to stick with jewelry.  The cloth appendages that once adorned a person’s appearance are disappearing fast.  While there are those who insist on the propriety of the tie, they’re becoming more difficult to find, and less sought after every day: Discipline and dignity in dress are out.   Sad but true, they are an anachronism in their own time.

Is Green The Color of Money?--UniformMarketNews.Com

Going “green:” Environmental protection from the decadence of technology in order to allow our natural resources to breathe again.   Today’s conscientious society, in developing entire new lines of clothing, is at once saving the planet from careless abandon during our parents’ generation, and hoping to garner a fortune in the manufacturing business at the same time.  Let us review…

In order to maintain itself, the uniform industry has to dedicate itself to a few steadfast principles: Economy, durability, longevity, practicality, and attractive appearance.   As things currently exist, few to none of these aspects that are so necessary in a top notch uniform are real possibilities in an organic garment.  Perhaps they will be accessible one day—even sooner rather than later—but for now, there is a choice to be made between the two. 

Let’s take economy.  The cost of organic fibers is anywhere from two to four times greater than standardized fabric.  For virgin plants, there have to be customized agricultural procedures, with special protection from bugs but without using bug sprays, or isolated fields that don’t utilize practiced protective measures.  At this point in time, these methods of growth and harvesting are minimal in volume compared to standard horticultural techniques; thus, enormously expensive.  A tough sell in the marketplace. 

There is currently a need and desire for processing new plants that heretofore were not used for fabrics, but now are—corn or bamboo, for example, which take enormous amounts of costly dilution in order to become usable as woven fibers.  Imagine that folks are now craving to wear garments made out of what used to be used for building houses, bridges, and flooring.  It’s a great idea, but the procedures are neither cheap, easy, nor as environmentally friendly as one would think.

Most of the organics come in very neutral tones, and in order to dye them (are we insisting on organic dyes, which themselves are limited and add up monetarily?) we’re again limited in overall palette selection.  Every time we want to dye organic goods, it’s an additional process with specialized chemistry.  The dollar signs increase, and the customer has to make choices.   You can purchase a swell set of scrubs, for instance, 100% organic cotton or hemp in the neutral tones of ivory and olive, for just $80.00, or a poly cotton set in the color of your choice for $24.00.  Who can afford it?

Durability and longevity are critical in the uniform industry.  It’s vital that garments last as long as possible before replacement.  There are several really attractive fabrics in the organics—knits, charmeuses, silks, corduroys, open weaves, to name a few.  For garments that need these kinds of materials: t-shirts, blouses, jackets, diapers, etc., organics are terrific.  But by and large, the uniform business is not made up of such commodities, whereas the seasonal, quixotic and short-lived fashion industry is. 

Rather, sturdy uniforms that are built to be cool, inexpensive, and last over time with as little care as possible, are what is required.  With the exception of the jutes and burlaps, it’s going to be difficult to find an organic weave that is as strong as it is long lasting.  And between us, who wants to wear  apparel made of burlap? 

Hemp is a very durable fiber, but the weave is loose, and it doesn’t hold.  It’s more gauze-like.  Tencel wrinkles and stains like crazy.  Cotton has never been strong; denim wears out quickly—look at any pair of blue jeans at the knees.  While it’s true that organic t-shirts for restaurants, or organic smocks for spas would be perfect choices, the overall tenacity of the garments just isn’t there.

The practicality of organics in the uniform industry is probably the most important issue of all.  Populations have only come upon technology in garment manufacturing during the last 60-100 years, depending upon one’s point of view.  Before that, there were no polyesters, no fabric treatments, no blends.  There were no special soaps, dyes, treatments, or chemicals. 

While it’s true that there was ignorance about the prevalence of existing metals, such as lead or mercury, it really wasn’t until the 20^th century that things stopped being “organic.”  The simple reason for the infusion of chemistry into our lives was that advancing technology was able to make our world easier and more comfortable by treating fabrics in such a way as to give them greater strength.   Before that, mothers stayed home and scrubbed with their washboards, mended if there was a hole, ironed after the clothes had dried on the line outside, and people had lower expectations, just being grateful to have anything to wear at all.

Today, when we ask for wicking, which is the process of drawing extra moisture away from the skin and absorbing it into the cloth in order to stay cool and sweat-free, we are seeking greater comfort for ourselves.  Technology is responsible for such a procedure.  It’s not organic.  Neither are soil-resistant finishes, wrinkle-free, nor permanent press treatments.  If you like water repellent rain coats, better forget about them—not to mention water proof.  All of these stay-warm light weight fabrics such as Gortex:  They’re o.u.t.  The nylons, like Supplex?  The stretches as in Spandex?  Nope.  Not those either.  In fact, the entire recreational/sports world will have a big problem going green, in spite of active wear soy pants, or polar fleece sweatshirts made out of recycled bottles.

Finally, the appearance of a uniform is critical, because it sets the visual tone of identity for the group it represents.  It’s difficult to find organic fibers that have a crisp, bandbox look, and where the colors are vibrant and cheerful rather than more earth-toned and subdued.  Instead, most of them appear limp, saggy, baggy, and used.  For many, this look will speak up and say, “Look at me!  I’m green!”  For others, it will be a costly reminder of dull, drab, and impractical.  It will be very interesting to see where the trend takes us.      

      

Anchors Away--Offshore Manufacturing: Article for UniformMarketNews.com

It’s nothing new that these days Americans are buying offshore merchandise by the billions of dollars.  Uniforms are no exception.  Any uniform manufacturer—any article of clothing used for uniforms and sold by a manufacturer or a distributor—that has any sort of volume to it at all, is made overseas.

There is no question that the world grows smaller by the nano-second.  That the United States has multiple trade treaties and tariff agreements with other countries, either pending or in effect, is undeniable.  It is absolutely true that cheaper goods purchased overseas have allowed millions of American citizens to have a better quality of life, just as it is also true that our economy has been pumped heartily by those who shop for offshore-made goods—not only at the Wal-Mart’s, K-Mart’s, and Target’s—but at the Penney’s, Sears’, Macy’s, Saks, Neiman’s, and Nordstrom’s, too.

We can debate and argue about geo-politics and economic forecasts from now until Doomsday, but the bottom line is that things aren’t going to go backward; if any changes occur in our present economic situation, they will only be to further the global economy. 

It used to be that supply and demand was a local, regional, or even national issue.  Now, it has expanded to an international one.  Manufacturing is in the midst of a huge revolution; the dust nowhere near settling.  What is so is that production is about the survival of the fittest.  It used to be that the United States filled that bill and came out on top.  Now, it no longer does for many reasons.  Sadly, we are the worse off for it.

It is safe to say that if we went to war with the Chinese, we would have to order our military uniforms from them first, in order to dress for the occasion.  Executives, hotel concierges, dignitaries, enormous numbers of corporate individuals in our country wear elegant attire made offshore.  Very few could dress to meet the public if it were up to what’s left of stateside American uniform manufacturing.  The same holds true for industrial, public safety, hospitality wear, medical apparel, and athletic wear.  Even school uniforms are made overseas—what ever happened to motherhood, Uncle Sam, and apple pie?  With the exception of very few companies, and even fewer genres (such as the band uniform business), most garments today are no longer made in this country.

Yes, there are very fine tailors—but fewer of them.  There are excellent cut and sew operations, but so sparse that those which are of value are backlogged with work for weeks and weeks in terms of turnaround time.  There are small companies here and there—maybe ten or twenty at most in the entire country—who still do custom uniforms to specification, for groups such as Shrines, fancy parades, designer restaurants and hotels.  There are a few costumers.  There are those small factories which are affiliated with single garment operations, such as aprons, shirts, certain dress military or fraternal order uniforms.  They keep going.  But even for them, it’s difficult.

Almost everyone who manufactures in the United States today does private label, because it’s another way to survive—making something for someone else, as well as under one’s own name.   It’s a daily struggle, and while some are doing better than others, the apparel business—which has never been easy—is now harder than ever.

It’s not just the manufacturers themselves, but suppliers that are choking, too.  Since so much weaving and dyeing of cloth, production of notions such as thread, buttons, shoulder pads, etc., all come from offshore now; because the machines are also made offshore; because labor and goods are so much cheaper there; why pay customs and freight to bring all of this into the country when it could be utilized where the garments are now being made? 

Relatively speaking, there is so little production here in the ‘States, it’s easier to job goods onto the Mainland in much smaller quantities, rather than to stock giant amounts hoping that some American manufacturer will snap it all up.  American uniform suppliers, as well as American uniform manufacturers are dying on the vine.    

There are two real wrenches in the garment business in this country:  The first is that there is no real labor pool anymore.  Certainly, there are pockets here and there.  But very few Americans know how to sew today.  The two groups who do most of the actual work are either Hispanic or Asian immigrants.  Truth be known, as they become more integrated into our society, they, too, go on to do other things.  Hiring is murder. 

The second wrench is that the cost of production is so high.  Americans demand American wages and so far, others around the world work for much less, and as a result, merchandise is made for much less overseas.  These two issues alone are killing us as we try to compete in our own marketplace.  Our own bigger manufacturers go offshore, making it even harder for those who are smaller and take pride in putting that little red, white, and blue flag inside their garments.

As the trend for uniforms to be made offshore continues, the one small glimmer of light in all of this is that eventually trade balances.  Water seeks its own level.  As the dollar drops, people begin to think about the United States: Suddenly, it’s cheaper to buy merchandise made here than in China or Central America.  As other countries become more prosperous due to American dollars pumping their own economies, their wages and standards of living increase, as well.  Things begin to even out.  The real question is, can American uniform manufacturers and suppliers stay afloat long enough until some sort of prosperity returns?