Hamilton Shirts

For those of us with a penchant for custom clothing, living a community far removed from the centers of bespoke tailoring can be a disheartening prospect.

Fortunately, for the sartorially-inclined in Southeast Texas, there’s an oasis in the desert: Hamilton Shirts.

Hamilton has been around since 1883, two years longer in fact than Britain’s Turnbull & Asser.


Today, the firm is run by siblings David and Kelly Hamilton. Their shop is located west of the Houston Galleria in a fairly unassuming location on Richmond Avenue.

The showroom is appropriately clubby in appearance and atmosphere. Although you can relax and thumb through the books containing small swatches of fabric, the real action is right off the showroom floor, in the shelves lining the factory. Here, bolts of fabric await–herringbones and plaids, tattersalls and solids–and there’s something about looking at a wide expanse of fabric that adds to the verisimilitude of the bespoke process. I’m a sucker for checks, and Hamilton has them in abundance.

I have nine Hamilton custom shirts, purchased at various points over the past seven years. All are still in regular rotation, although my oldest button down is beginning to fray about the cuffs. No matter–it only adds to the shirt’s allure, giving it that well-lived-in feeling.

The shirts have much of what the clothing cognoscenti fetishize, including a split yoke and thick mother-of-pearl buttons. My lone complaint is the lack of pattern matching on the sleeve gauntlets, but it’s a fairly minor lament.

In addition to their custom business, Hamilton produces ready-to-wear shirts, all, to my knowledge, made in their Houston shop. They also offer a line of tailored clothing (suits, jackets and trousers) made in conjunction with an unnamed “American tailoring firm.”

One of my bespoke shirts from Hamilton


Kent Wang: Modern Haberdasher

The pocket square… It’s arguably the most superfluous of men’s clothing. After all, it’s but a meager dimension of silk, linen, cotton or wool whose only purpose is to decorate the pocket of a man’s jacket.

But what a purpose that is!

Cary Grant in North by Northwest notwithstanding, it’s difficult for a man to aspire to be well attired without learning the nuances of the pocket square.

For my money, one of the leading purveyors of pocket squares today is Kent Wang. I met Kent online several years ago when we were both regular inhabitants of styleforum.net. While I remained a clothing hobbyist, Kent entered the professional ranks, starting his online business with a range of pocket squares.

Today, Kent has branched out into many different aspects of men’s clothing, although I’m still partial to his  squares, particularly the linens. They’re pretty reasonably priced as these things go, and several of them are made domestically.

Two of the six Kent Wang pocket squares in my collection
Yours truly with a Kent Wang pocket square in full deployment

The Bean Boot: An Icon Among Classics

While recent years have seen L.L. Bean relocate much of its production overseas (particularly to countries dominated by sweatshop labor), the Bean Boot is still produced, as it has been for more than 100 years, in Maine.

The boot was L.L. Bean’s founding product. In 1912, Leon Bean, having obtained a list of out-of-state holders of Maine hunting permits, sent out an advertisement for what he called his Maine Hunting Shoe (leather uppers for breathability and rubber bottoms for waterproofness).  He offered an unconditional guarantee, and, legend has it, 90 of the first 100 boots were returned. Although it nearly scuttled Bean’s business prospects, Bean remained true to his word. He tweaked the design and sent out replacement boots.


So when it came time to buy a pair of boots for Fran as she prepares for school in the East (with prospects of unfamiliar weather to a girl from the Gulf Coast), the Bean Boot was on the top of our list. Little did I know that the boot had, as such things do from time-to-time, insinuated itself back into fashion, and so the good folks at L.L. Bean were scrambling to keep up with demand. After about a month-and-a-half of patient waiting, the boots arrived on our doorstep.

Fran’s new Bean Boots with socks courtesy of Dad
The chain link sole


Kiel James Patrick

A couple of weeks ago, I happened upon the website for Kiel James Patrick. Primarily a manufacturer of American-made anchor bracelets, they also have some very nice Made in America clothing. I was particularly taken by their ladies Scallop Oxford, an oxford cloth shirt with a unique scalloped collar.



So I ordered one on-line for my daughter. She, not surprisingly, was delighted. It really is a very nicely made shirt: 100 percent cotton, mother of pearl buttons, box pleat in the back with locker loop.



A Manifesto

We’ve set up this blog with a special purpose: to celebrate the companies, small and large, who continue to make classic American clothing in American communities with American workers. At a time when even the stalwarts of American style–once venerable firms like Brooks Brothers and L.L. Bean–have migrated much of their production to the developing world, we aim to highlight those manufacturers who have resisted the impulse to outsource.

Our guiding principles:

  1. Wherever possible, buy American. We mean this not as an expression of empty-headed jingoism. We mean it instead as a desire to breathe life into and celebrate American manufacturing.
  2. Learn to view clothing less through the lens of fashion and more through the lens of style. Fashion changes. Style endures. A well-made, classic piece from 30 years ago is just as wearable today as it was when it was bought.
  3. An emphasis on thrift. On one level, this might seem counter-intuitive. But it’s a recognition that well-made clothing can and should last for decades.
  4. A willingness to pay more for well-produced goods. At least in the short term.
  5. A recognition that Made in America is not a panacea. Well-made goods can be found around the world: Scottish cashmere. English shoes and suits. Italian ties.