Survival Skills In A Tough Economy: UniformMarketNews.com

(Note: This article was never published, nor was I paid for it, as Uniform Markets' felt the article was too negative.  In truth, it was perfectly correct and accurate.)

If you're reading this and you're like most of us, you're probably saying your prayers at night, and struggling plenty by day: The uniform industry, like many of those in today's world, is feeling heat from the huge economic meltdown.  Unlike jobs in technology, healthcare, the military, maintenance, or educational sectors, which are considered sacrosanct and necessary, the entire American market is in jeopardy; the apparel and uniform sectors are hanging by a thread.  Only those with the cleverest of survival plans, abilities to be flexible and roll with the punches will survive the shakedown.

If one goes online, looks in the Yellow Pages, or watches the ads in the newspapers, it will become readily apparent that under the heading of "Uniforms," there are not a lot of choices available.  Part of that is because not everyone wears a uniform and it’s a smaller niche industry; the other reason is that there just aren't that many of us around any more.  Tip: Consider partnering with a larger company.

Chances are that if you go out to dinner, you'll find your servers in T-shirts, polo shirts, or white dress shirts—basic and no frills.  They will all have been made off-shore.  If they need a cover-up, it's quite possibly an apron—also less expensive if purchased from an off-shore company that manufactures by the thousands.   If you check pants, it's the same: Off-shore.  It doesn't matter whether they're industrial, chefwear, casual or dress.  For the most part, it's off-shore manufactured slacks that are being worn. Tip: Sell off-shore merchandise as well as "Made in the U.S.A."

What is also noticeable is that fewer and fewer establishments are purchasing uniforms at all.  Employees are asked to purchase their own garments within certain guidelines.  Uniforms are no longer desired, save a cover-up to protect an employee's street-clothes, if even that.  While the littler mom-n'-pop shops are cutting out uniforms altogether, even the bigger companies are honing down.   Tip: Think aprons and vests.

Larger establishments are leaving the rental business as a means of handling their uniforms, and returning to the concept of purchasing the garments while letting the employees launder their own.  One large Sheraton hotel in Colorado is reported to have cut its uniform costs by $100,000 per year, as a result of returning to purchasing their garments instead of renting them.  Tip: If you're a renter, offer the alternative of buying.

Embroidery and silk-screening are the good news and the bad news in the uniform business.  One can look at them as the ribbon around the uniform package—good looking identity by offering a logo on low-cost garments, rather than higher priced uniforms that offer the identity by themselves.  Or, one can do away with the identity imprints as being too costly, and merely use a style, a color, or an accessory such as a hat, scarf or tie—one less aspect again on which to spend extra dollars.  Tip: Be familiar with alternative accessories.

As businesses go out of business, as corporations become more casual, as mergers rid themselves of duplication, as salaries and budgets become less instead of more, the question of how the uniform will survive, is a very real one.  It used to be, of course, that mostly service people wore them.  It also used to be that there were very few choices of garments available, and styles, colors, and fabrics from which to choose were limited.  A waitress looked like a waitress, a chef looked like a chef, a nurse looked like a nurse, and a doctor looked like a doctor.  Today, there are literally big-box stores for medical and kitchen wear.  It will be interesting to see how they do as time goes forward. Tip: Think about adding garments for the service industry in your inventory.

The entire state of California expects to go under in a couple of months, the real estate and banking industries are dying on the vine, and the automobile industry is in the soup.  If they go under, the ripple effect in terms of the economy will stagger businesses everywhere.  What does this forecast about uniforms—an added burden on company budgets?   Can't bank personnel just wear their own clothes?  Can't eateries?  Do liquor stores and mall personnel, or department stores really need an entire ensemble, when a single article will do just fine?  Tip: Think inexpensive, practical, and clever.  

Several of the manufacturers and retailers here in the United States are out of business.  Others are barely managing, as one owner of a factory that's been in business for over a century, said the other day.  "Production is down to three days a week," she confessed.  "People are making do, and no one wants to buy.”  

A customer who had long bought a particular product for his Shrine accessories is now ready to change the product and purchase Canadian, NAFTA and customs be hanged.  "It's half the price," he defended.  "Even though the quality isn't nearly as good as American, we can't afford the real McCoy any longer."  Tip: Offer alternatives.  Think outside the box.  Never say "never."

The trick of it, if there’s any "trick" at all, is to survive however one can. 

If it means pounding the pavement, cold calling, follow-up calls, using the Internet, having flyers or sandwich boards on the street, do it. If working out of your home, shortening your hours, cutting your personnel, cuts down on the overhead, do it.  If you need to streamline your telephones and technology in order to save dollars per month, do it.  Tip: Advertise like crazy and think do-it-yourself tactics.

Whatever it takes, either commit yourself to the long haul, or think about getting out.   Be careful not to drive your business, your credit, and your capital into the ground on a last-ditch hope that you might make it.  Last but not least, be sure you get a minimum payment of 50% up front, and the balance pre-paid before delivery.  Even the best customers these days are huge risks.  The bigger the customer, the greater the loss for you if he defaults.

Zehnder's of Frankenmuth: Tradition and Common Sense: Interview with Made to Measure Magazine

Jonathan Lenz/Shutterstock.com

Spending time at Zehnder’s is like walking into a Hallmark card: There is no other way to explain it.  We are talking about America’s largest family restaurant, and second largest independently owned.  It also sports a

152-room hotel with a 20,000 square foot video arcade, a championship

18-hole golf course and country-club, a four-story 30,000 square foot water park, and a good-sized retail food/bakery/boutique outlet.  This single campus is located in Frankenmuth, Michigan, in the Saginaw Valley between the cities of Flint and Saginaw, northwest of Detroit.

Zehnder’s was originally a hotel that was built in 1856, used as a stop-over for farmers who wanted a friendly fried chicken meal, hay and water for their horses, and a place to bed down; all for the nifty fare of $.75 a night.  It passed from owner to owner over the years, and was eventually purchased by William and Emilie Zehnder in 1927, who eliminated the hotel, and turned it into a restaurant, instead.  Zehnder’s opened on Mother’s Day, 1928, (still their biggest holiday).  They completely remodeled the place, and being German Lutheran immigrants who recognized their great fortune to have been Americans, decided that the new establishment would resemble the Colonial styled residence of Mt. Vernon, President George Washington’s pastoral home in Virginia.  It looks much the same, today.

As with most family concerns, William ran the hotel, and Emilie cooked the food—for the most part, her recipes are still used. They had eight children, and in one way or another, every son or daughter was put to work to keep the family business alive.  The brothers and sisters remained close as relatives, as well as being smart, savvy business colleagues. 

During the Depression, they struggled desperately, and report that their lowest day was in the 1930’s, when they sold a single seven-cent Speckled Sport cigar.  That’s a far cry from today’s receipts, with the multiple dining rooms serving as many as 5,916 guests in one day; at approximately $20 a person, that’s good business! 

The Saginaw Valley community came about in 1845, when an influx of the German immigrants migrated to the area.  What was then about 3,000 folks, grew to approximately 5,000, and it hasn’t changed much over the last 163 years.  The growth of the automotive industry as a result of the presence of an interstate in the ‘50’s, caused heavier population and changes in demography.  However, the surroundings of Frankenmuth are basically farming community and small towns where everybody knows everybody, and their ways of thinking.  The church unites one another with family values that are very traditional and conservative in perspective, thriving in the midst of a closely knit and caring group of people.  The old-fashioned tried and true Protestant Ethic—hard work—is the core for everyone, every day.  Zehnder’s is a paradigm.

Edwin, son of William, eventually took over Zehnder’s, itself.  However, don’t forget that one sister ran the gift shop, a brother was the postmaster of the town, one a minister with a son who is now the head chef of the restaurant, one a professor of hospitality management, and Uncle

William, Jr., who ran the Austrian restaurant across the street.  Now, in the third generation of ownership, (all of whom are in their 50’s,) Edwin’s four children run Zehnder’s; they work together and they vacation together, celebrating the holidays on their own time before their customers’, so dedicated are their lives to family and opportunity.  “We are grateful to have what we do,” says Susan Zehnder, vice president of Human Resources.  “We think of ourselves as being very fortunate.” 

Everyone cooks, serves, bakes, you-name-it.  And the best part?  Even the farmers in the surrounding area supply the chickens, the vegetables, and grain for the breads.  For the purposes of dietary accommodations for the customers, as well as serving fresh homegrown items, very little processed food is served.  “The secret,” confesses Susan, “comes from Dad.  He always said that no one works for him—everyone works with him.”

There are over 700 employees affiliated with the Zehnder’s corporation, some workers marking 35 or 50 year anniversaries.  Every aspect is overseen and neatly divided by job description in tune with specific areas of activity.  The basic philosophy of uniforms, the same as with the restaurant, is the simple, down-to-earth system that has kept the company running for so many years.  “Guests, like everyone else, judge a book by its cover,” philosophizes Susan, in Trumanesque plainness.  The garments are mostly utilitarian with an eye for cost and beyond that, they are quite straightforward. 

The employees themselves, coming from the surrounding rural areas are quite like-minded, so that the down-home atmosphere of the restaurant spills over from them, as well.  The most that’s spent on want-ads for hiring new people is $600 per year.  Everyone else is either family or a referral.  Folks don’t fight because there’s little to fight about; they’re too busy working to earn a day’s living, rather than frittering away time with arguments.  Trust runs high, and friends respect friends.  The garments that they wear are reflective of themselves, and they are practical for job service.    

“Our company goal is that everyone leaves satisfied,” reports Susan.  “Customer service is number one.  We want to be the number one choice for our guests, our employees, as leaders in our local community, region, state, and nationally, where we work very hard to be good citizens.” 

There are four areas for uniform wear: The restaurant, itself, which capitalizes on its Williamsburg styled Colonial architecture, surroundings, costumes, and fried chicken dinners with all the fixin’s; the retail outlet that merchandises homemade bakery goods, foods, and a few doo-dads; the lodge with the adjoining water park; and the golf course with its club house.  It’s all at once different, and yet the same.  Here’s how:

The restaurant is really the only place where there are unique costumes.  The design, instituted in the 1960’s, is very simple, and with low-key colors in brown’s and beiges with black and white accents.  There are the servers’ ankle length plaid Colonial dresses with white eyelet lace pinafore aprons.  Mop caps and puffed sleeves with pleats and velvet ribbons accentuate.  The fellows wear large white peasant shirts and black knickers.  Hostesses dress in black street length dresses with impressive eyelet pinafore collars.  The bartenders wear vests, slacks, and ties.  When it comes to “fancy wear,” that’s it for the entire expanse of property.  Everything else is strictly comfort, practicality, and job-description oriented.

The retail area is outfitted in black cobbler aprons.  Period.  No muss, no fuss.  They’re worn over an employee’s basic dress, and serve to identify and to keep the individual clean. 

Once a year, an employee is given a free uniform from Zehnder’s, itself.  If an employee wants additional garments, he must purchase them.  This is throughout the establishment. 

The hotel is about khaki pants and polo shirts.  Certainly, there are white chef coats for the kitchens, and black or black & white checkered chef pants, which are everywhere on campus.  But the hotel as well as the golf club, maintenance, and everyone else, is dressed in the khaki pants and polo shirts.  If the heath department requires a hat, then it’s a black baseball cap.

The polos are color-coded by job description: E.G., royal for Splash Village water park dining room; red for the water park, itself; white for the front desk and professional staff; burgundy for the maintenance people, etc.  Susan chooses the colors, and with her assistant and various managers of particular areas, the uniforms are kept in perfect condition.

The state of Michigan mandates that everyone must be fitted into a uniform, no matter individual needs, so certain items in the Zehnder’s line have to be custom-made to accommodate people who are particularly large or small.  “Weight is a protected class,” Susan cites, “so ‘buying off the rack’ is impossible.”  She tries to work with as few vendors as possible to narrow the multiple efforts for fitting and purchasing uniforms.  Before each uniform article is purchased, the item is tested by employees for fabric, durability, quality, laundry, stain-resistance, comfort, and employee likeability.  Susan is the bottom line when it comes to selection, but employees always have a say in what they wear.

Enough stock is kept on hand for new hires or unexpected damages.  To be sure, each employee is expected to take care of his own uniform.  There are spreadsheets that record each employee and what is given out at time of hire and orientation.  They either own the garments or they’re given out.  The uniform stock room depends on the time of year, in terms of gauging how many garments are needed for the slower months vs. the more active ones.  Also, different areas are recorded separately: For instance, the golf season may require a varying level of in stock apparel vs. the dining rooms, when it comes to seasonal needs.

Including part-timers, there are several thousand sets of uniforms that are in use on a regular basis, as most workers have at least three sets of garments.  Tailors in the surrounding area are recommended, but Zehnder’s, itself, does not have its own alteration department.  When a new employee is taken on, he ventures into the fitting room and is supervised by his area manager who makes sure that he has the correct items and is appropriately and attractively attired.

There is very little, if any, desire to re-vamp the uniform program.  “If it isn’t broke, don’t fix it” is the motto.  “We consider freshening things up a bit, from year to year, but that’s it,” says Susan.  “We’re happy.  People know who we are.  Our uniforms identify us in a way that’s easy.  If we put our uniforms only on a billboard, we wouldn’t even have to use our name, because our guests know us when they see us.”

The employees are shown how to iron, how to sew on their buttons or fix a tear, and how to clean their own garments.  Sloppiness is not allowed.  One has to look as good as possible.   If a worker arrives in a uniform that is less than “bandbox,” then he is sent home without pay.  If a garment is dirty or torn, there is no pay for the time spent repairing it on the job.  Tattoos, appropriate undergarments, jewelry, and shoes, are all discussed:  Expectations are clearly defined.   

Understanding the basic philosophy of Zehnder’s of Frankenmuth may appear to be somewhat old-fashioned or even odd in today’s anything-goes world.  But the other side of it is, how many can say—particularly in this day and age—that they’ve survived 82 years, remodeled and grown, including multiple wars, a depression, recessions, strikes, and plain hard times?  Truth be known, Zehnder’s, in its down-home, no frills, brass tacks simplicity, is just plain heart-warming.  It’s about American success, and the basic values that this country was made of.  Think about it, go there, try it.  And smile. 

   

Gripflex Corporation: A Half Century of Elegance & Innovation: UniformMarketNews.Com

In 1954, 46 year old William Lowney had an idea that possessed him.  It began in his four-car Philadelphia garage as he and his wife, Annette, patented a gizmo called a boot band.  This little braided band, with its splash of olive drab color, fit around the tops of military boots and kept pants tucked tightly inside the footwear; they at once “gripped” the top of the boot but “flexed” when an individual stepped: Hence, the Gripflex Corporation was born. 

Lowney initially began his journey of selling his product from town to town along the eastern seaboard, potential customer to potential customer, until his gadget took hold.  And indeed it did.  From there, it was a small step to add the product of shoulder cords, each cord being handmade, even today.  Shoulder cords inspired citation cords, shoulder knots, epaulettes, and the selling of braid, itself—flat, soutache, edge cord,  and the rounded tubular.  Lowney focused on what he felt were basic stock colors (custom dyed colors became available upon request) as he broadened his clientele to include schools and marching bands, hotels and theatres, police, postal, and security uniforms.  The creation of the Lowney braid business was on its way.

Twenty-year old son George abandoned his job in a grocery store and eventually took over the firm, maintaining his father’s original goals and standards while growing the business at the same time.   Moving out of the garage, Gripflex currently boasts 15,000 square feet of braiding machines and inventory, as well as over 40 employees who at once do the hands-on work, and assist with customer service in the front offices. It is one of two braid houses that remain in the United States, today.

All of George Lowney's children have played an active role in the third generation of family ownership, but it is Michael Lowney who has been in charge for the last 11 years, adding his own innovations to the company.  Not squeamish about trying new things, Michael has inspired such ideas as stretch braid for garments where a fixed flat braid impedes movement and is destructive to the fibers of the braid itself; there are the lighted band accessories, developed by JF Magic—shoulder cords that are actually battery operated and work off of LED fiber optics, so that marching bands and other groups wearing braided uniforms may be seen at night; supported by his brother, Steve, who developed the corporate website, Michael also has attended multiple trade-shows, attempting to develop new audiences for his products; and he focuses on providing excellent customer service with state of the art communication tools. 

One of the finest tributes to Gripflex is that many of its staff have remained loyal—some for as long as 40 years—no mean feat in today’s transient world of employment opportunities.  Several members of whole families work both office and production, with no thought of looking elsewhere for a job.   The Gripflex family is so closely knit and so professional in its operation that Michael feels each individual is able to take responsibility for his own time and his own job; the level of trust he has in his colleagues is beyond reproach.  Gripflex is open five days a week, on a 24 hour production schedule, running three shifts: A true definition of successful initiative.  

During the last several years, the Lowney’s have looked at offshore manufacturing for their products.  They readily acknowledge that it would be less expensive to do so, which is an important factor from a business standpoint.  However, Michael is adamant that he will continue to be an American manufacturer as long as he can, even if it costs a little more.  He is fiercely proud of his commitment to our economy, and to his sense of patriotic loyalty.  It is not all idealistic, however, as he cites quality control, customs, and several of his clients, such as the U.S. military, that insist on buying American.

Michael Lowney is not an old man:  He is 42 years old, with two young children, and a wife who is a stay-at-home mom.  Nevertheless, he reflects that even in his short tenure, let alone those of his father and grandfather, that while the braid business itself has not changed significantly—because it is fairly static in terms of its decorative abilities and how it’s applied—the garments for which braid is used have changed enormously.   It used to be that the big band houses would purchase loads of braid for fabulous and showy marching uniforms made of woolens and polyesters.  Today’s garments are less about braid and chauvinistic old world regalia but more about a kind of “Star Trekky” tighter fitting stretch appeal.  Noting the passing of history even in his business, he reminisces. 

“The colors are the same, but the fabrics, the styles, the garments are totally different,” he says.  “We’ve had several of our customers since the ‘60’s, but the volume is down because so many things have changed.  In addition, he reckons with the reality that so much is indeed going on offshore, and that many of the smaller American “mom and pop” shops are gone.” 

“We’re in a small industry,” he admits, “and there’s only so much of the pie to go around.  Still, we’re very lucky, considering what’s going on out there in this economy, that we’re doing as well as we are, so we must be doing something right.”

With that, Michael Lowney smiles about the Gripflex Corporation and admits he’s looking forward to the next 50 years of successful production, and that hopefully, his own children will be the fourth generation to become involved in this very fine and creative company.

Gentleman's Agreement: A Disappearing Trend: UniformMarketNews.com

"So many things have changed," Dave Hindlemann reflects. "It used to be a handshake was a man's word. Now, it's lawyers and contracts – cut and dried. The personal element is missing."  (“Made to Measure Magazine," Spring/Summer, 1997).

If you’ve been talking with your colleagues lately, or even if you’ve been involved personally, you’ve probably noticed that our society has changed when it comes to the way in which it does business.  Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac aside, credit crunch and housing markets, too, the uniform industry has been hit with the same kinds of changes in ethical behavior—not only from customers, but from our own small family of apparel manufacturers and suppliers.

More and more, companies are refusing to lend credit, expecting prompt payments with 50% down and balance prepaid before delivery.  More and more customers find themselves short and not wanting to pay their bills, no matter how loyal they’ve been in the past.  Return authorizations are being required from corporations that heretofore accepted merchandise sent back as a matter of courtesy: Good will is no longer the name of the game.  One or two bad customers can shift more friendly relaxed business policies away from good will, towards harsh, stiff penalties. 

Companies that have previously been referred to as being legitimate have no qualms about writing out contracts or purchase orders, and reneging on them without blinking an eye.   Jobbers who buy and sell goods are paradigm.  They offer rock bottom prices, insist the selling customer wrap and label every bolt of fabric (costing hundreds of dollars in labor), change the terms as much as two or three times, and then feel free drop the contract, altogether, knowing that a lawsuit against them would cost the aggrieved party far more than any sale would be worth.  A legal piece of paper means little.

Leading suppliers in the industry find themselves being “stiffed” over and over and over again as manufacturers drive their businesses into the ground, bankrupting themselves rather than closing up before their accounts can be paid.  It’s not one supplier; it’s not one manufacturer; that’s the tragedy of it.  It’s become a trend.  It’s almost as though one’s fellow human being doesn’t matter any more.  When President Harry Truman said, “The buck stops here, he was referring to responsibility—fiscal and otherwise—not his inside pockets.

Commission sales?  Repeat sales?  Whatever happened to customer loyalty?  Whatever happened to a vendor calling on loyal customers?  Whatever happened to salespeople respecting colleagues’ territories?  Whatever happened to companies who used to sell strictly wholesale, but have decided additionally to sell retail, and also undercut their own sales forces by going direct to the customer with a cheaper price than a salesman could offer?

Whatever happened to identity companies that used to make their money solely on embroidery or screen printing—that now sell garments at cost to retail customers in addition, so that the uniform companies have to struggle to compete with those on whom they once depended for wholesale service?

Sound like a lot of whining?  No.  It’s about business ethics:  Respect for one’s fellow, and genuine love of a game that includes the players as well as the rewards.

Women are treated shamefully.  One woman who owned a contract shop first had to bring in her father to gain respect, and then her husband.  The irony is that her 50+ employees are 99% women.  It’s not only about men, but women themselves don’t respect other women as leaders in our industry.  Another smart, savvy gal with whom I spoke waxed philosophical and said that one must be tolerant, bite the bullet and keep one’s mouth shut, not stooping to the level of those who insult people merely because of their gender.  Sounds stoic and mature.  Not so easy to do. 

There was the company who lifted all the drawings from one website to its own, copyright laws aside.  It wasn’t about a link.  The kicker is that the one company was actually doing business with the other at the time of the thievery.   How sad that in such a small and close group of professionals such as ours, each business—mostly small in size, as we struggle to band together to survive  offshore manufacturing that is biting at our heels—has to sleep with one eye open, so to speak. 

Independent contractors are often of a dubious sort at best:  Deadlines and quality control are mysteries left unsolved until the work is turned in.   One can only hope.  

Still and all, it must be said that there are the good guys, too.  What’s encouraging, it isn’t about age.  One might think would be.  There are younger people and older people who are kind, disciplined, and principled; a part of old school values.  Make no mistake that such is the case.

Vendors pitch in to help one another in a tight spot, all the time.  And it’s swell.   However, it’s not about whole companies or general policies any more.  It’s not common practice, but rather the exception to the rule.  People are nice, people take an interest.  But the reality is our industry is so besieged by offshore pressures and survival tactics, the real people who matter often get lost in the shuffle.  That’s what’s sad.


The important thing is that when you go home, you want to be able to sleep at night.  If your approach and behavior toward your customers and colleagues are quite literally the same as those with which you would want them to treat you, then you know you’re on the right path.  If not, perhaps you need to make some changes.   There’s nothing wrong with being competitive or wanting to win the sale.  But there’s a tragedy if it’s at human expense when the price is good will, trust, respect, integrity, and responsibility. 

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.