“It’s mainly clothing and accessories from my brand,” says Kai, who opened the store to create a lifestyle shop, and who carries about 75 percent of his personal, signature lines. In addition to himself, he has one full-time employee. “I have grooming, stationery, shoes, bags, rainwear, home furnishing and womenswear.”

“I design everything under the label,” he continues, adding that his work is made in three New York factories. “The first prototypes, we worked with people in Brooklyn and in Queens. We manufacture them in the garment district.”

When Kai started designing he initially manufactured garments overseas but with unsatisfying results. “I’m very particular about every detail. A lot of things get lost in translation, which is easier when you have a person in front of you. We could wait for a month or two, then find tons of mistakes, and it was too late for us to change. In New York, you just go there and talk about the mistakes.”

The end goal of keeping things close to home is simple. “It’s a lot more flexible when you work with people you can meet as opposed to emails,” says Kai. “The lead time is shorter, and you can do smaller quantities.”

To launch his business, Kai says he did research, talked to friends, hit trade shows and relied on word of mouth. “Vendors came by the shop and we hit it off. We collaborate. It’s a combination.”

Kai D’s connection to Hudson Made was also organic. “I think I just sent them an email and said I liked the product,” says Kai. “I saw them online. I like that they’re made locally. I like their story. I used to work for Nautica; I used to be in a much more corporate environment. Plus, I really like the aesthetic.”

Kai D has a grooming section, and carries Hudson Made’s Beard and Shave soap, Worker’s soap and shaving mugs. “Together, both brands fit well together. They show the grooming category.”

Continuing along the ideal of personalized, vintage America fashion, Kai, like Hudson Made, works within his own boundaries of classic style.

“I draw influences from the military,” says Kai, who grew up in Taiwan and moved to New York as an adult “just to be in New York.”

“The 1920s and ‘30s American character is my aesthetic. Tough, casual; my design philosophy is on the American heritage, which is something that a lot of people can relate to.”

“First and foremost is quality,” he says. “I’m very particular about the timeless quality. I like the utilitarian look, classically inspired. The clothing has to be fitting of the lifestyle of what I call modern-day artisans. The customers are in their own business or they don’t have typical nine-to-five jobs. They want to wear something versatile and comfortable while they are working. And presentable for clients. It’s not too casual, like J. Crew, and it’s not a too dressy, snooty look. When I started my own brand in 2009 I shopped everywhere. I couldn’t find the right clothing; casual dressing that was timeless, not trendy.”

To that end, Kai coined the term “Slow Fashion,” and explains it simply. “It means a more conscious way of consuming. Knowing how the products are made. Knowing the method of how they are made. And not buying things by impulse. Not just discarding things.”

There’s a lull, as he tries to sum up what he believes is the traditional American way of life. “Consume less, buy better and for longer.”

Discover Hudson Made products at Kai D., 230 Grand Street, Brooklyn, NY, 347-765 2204, www.kaidutility.com.

Looking for Hudson Made in your city? Discover our retailers worldwide.

One of the most unique clothing and accessories stores in the city, Cadet’s aim is to recapture the entrepreneurial America of the 1950s and 1960s, honoring classic lines and looks and relying on a work force that is as American as the design.

“We are completely vertical, we do everything ourselves,” says Schmidt, who’s been running the company with his partner, Raul Arevalo, for a little over two years. Heck, the guys even live in Brooklyn. “Pattern, production, we do all the pieces, which is highly unusual. We don’t send it overseas to have it produced. We have a studio/factory space [in Brooklyn] and a bunch of sewing machines and rolls of fabrics.”

Lest you think Schmidt is just a guy who digs sewing and thought, “what the hell,” his resume is a who’s “hue” of fashion. Starting at Abercrombie & Fitch, he went on to design for Target, Nordstrom, American Eagle, and Club Monaco, among others. Recently, he worked with Sarah Jessica Parker to help her develop her clothing line.

Cadet owns three stores, two of which are in Manhattan, the third in… do I really have to tell you? And their products are inspired by the look of the post World War II-military academy era, a period of time often romanticized and never out of style. Browsing through their clothing line I am half-tempted to salute or venture out on my yacht. Blazers, shorts, sweat shirts, outerwear, all in hues that are calm and soft-spoken. “Everything in our store has crossed by our hands at some point,” adds Schmidt, on the personal touch.

“Our signature item is the vintage air force pant. We modernized the fit, woven pant with cuffed bottom, a bridge fly that snaps at the top and has an angel. It’s an aviator pant.

“We approach design from a technical perspective. We know what construction of garments is possible or what just doesn’t make sense. We are able to add construction details that are unique to our brand but also adhere to a military academy aesthetic.”

Cadet has ten people working at their stores, and five more in the factory. “We work with other local designers to make their patterns. Most of the contacts we make are word-of-mouth and some of the work comes from contacts in the industry.”

This year, they introduced their first third-party product, Hudson Made’s Beard & Shave Soap. “Part of our mission is to develop our own line, but we needed to have third parties that have a local, unique element to them,” says Schmidt. “We didn’t want to carry something that everyone else has.”

As for the new product, “I liked that it was a soap and a shave. You can use it as body soap as well. It’s the fragrance, it’s the packaging.”

Cadet is among a growing trend of retailers who are committed to partnering with like-minded small businesses. While some may set geographical boundaries for the items featured in their stores, others are searching globally for like-minded entrepreneurs who are committed to responsible business practices and high-quality products. Hudson Made is crossing borders and is now available in nine states and eight countries worldwide.

But after a shopping spree at Cadet’s 14th Street location, all of a sudden I’m feeling the need to watch fireworks and eat hot dogs. Right after a nice soap and shave.

Beard And Shave Soap Trio	Joshua Vela Navy Waxed Duffle	Hudson Made Bandana

In spite of its simplicity, the bandana is that rare fashion hybrid—an item that’s as stylish and classic as it is utilitarian. Image courtesy of stylist/blogger Francis Kenneth Anunciacion, photo by Sylvia G Photography.

Like a lot of styles Madonna has adopted through the years, the pop icon did not invent the bandana, but reimagined it in a way that was both modern and relevant. Kerchiefs, the forefather of bandanas, can be traced to the French aristocracy. The plebian class couldn’t afford the fine, white silks that the upper class enjoyed. They wanted a more work-friendly accessory and the dark, printed cotton scarf emerged. The adoption of the bandana was both a necessity and an act of rebellion against the bourgeois. Other European countries soon followed suit and the bandana was on a roll. No matter where the bandana turned up, from the beginning it was a symbol of the proud, workingman—even if some of these men worked on the wrong side of the law. Pirates who plundered gold- filled Spanish galleons off the Caribbean Sea soon introduced bandanas to the New World.

Portrait of a cowboy by Charles D. Kirkland, circa 1880. Image source: Denver Public Library Digital Collections.

It wasn’t just criminals that knew the benefits of a good bandana. Outdoor laborers, such as farmers, railroad workers and cowboys wore them around the neck to wipe the sweat off their faces and keep dust out of their collars. Miners and factory workers concealed their mouths with bandanas to lessen the dust and fumes they inhaled. These cotton scarves were far more practical than the standard white hanky. The saturated colors and patterns hid stains more effectively and made them more durable. This proved useful to soldiers who took advantage of the bandana’s versatility to keep their own sweat and opponent’s blood out of their eyes. On the battlefield, a bandana could be used as a tourniquet for the wounded.

The history of the bandana is inextricably linked with the history of workers. Here, a riveter wears a bandana on her head while posing atop the wing of a WWII bomber at the Burbank, CA Lockheed Aircraft Corp. factory. Image credit: Life Photo Archives, circa 1942.

Beyond practical purpose, the bandana found a new role during the Revolutionary War: propaganda and promotion. Martha Washington used a printed bandana as a huge political “f*ck you” to the British who put a ban on textile printing in the colonies. Going one step further, Washington wouldn’t dare display any old print. She met with John Hewson, a printmaker friend of Benjamin Franklin in Philadelphia, to craft a cotton creation for her husband to use for political purposes. He returned with an image of canons, flags and George Washington on horseback. This very image was then used as propaganda in the war and when the British were defeated, as a commemorative souvenir. A new design was manufactured upon George Washington’s death. Because of the first lady’s keen fashion statement, the political bandana was born. Since then many historical milestones (world wars, the walk on the moon, the fall of the Berlin Wall, etc.) have had their own commemorative bandanas.

At left, the John Hewson-designed bandana commissioned by Martha Washington during the Revolutionary War, depicting the first president on horseback (image credit: New York Historical Society). At right, a commemorative bandana created upon George Washington’s death in 1799 (image credit: 1812 War & Piecing).

Bandanas also emerged as social identifiers. In the 1970s, the gay community adopted a “hanky code.” The colored bandanas indicated one’s orientation and sexual preferences without drawing unwanted attention from the rest of the world. Continuing bandanas connection to anti-authority, gang members in the 80s also appropriated bandanas as communication tools. This time the colors referenced loyalty to one gang or another: red meant Bloods; blue meant Crips.

A classic paisley bandana pattern.

From the streets of Los Angeles to Hollywood’s glitz and glamour, Madonna isn’t the only pop culture personality that has put the bandana front and center. Other recording artists have showcased the piece either by flaunting or rebelling against its deep-seated roots in the working class. Some have embraced its working class connotations, like Bruce Springsteen, who proudly claimed he was “Born in the USA.” Joan Jett personified rocker chick extreme by wearing a solid neck bandana on her album cover “I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll.” Axl Rose’s L.A. bad boy swagger couldn’t have been complete unless he, too, held back his hair with his signature bandana headscarf. Jennifer Lopez, during her Puff Daddy phase, delivered her dual image of ‘Jenny from the Block’ / DIVA with a blinged out bandana neatly knotted behind her ears.

From the coal mines of France and our country’s first ‘first lady’ to today’s cultural icons, the bandana has firmly secured its place as part of America’s fashion history. It continues to be pragmatic and versatile. And to paraphrase Madonna, who inspired my own personal bandana phase, it makes the people come together.

Patriot with Panache	Bandana	The Well-Worn Traveler

Mac Smith is a New York City based fashion writer who has never met a cat, coat or cake he didn’t love. itcantallbedior.blogspot.com twitter: @itcantallbedior

If Mark Twain was correct, then the high school version of me—donned in a mandatory cheap polyester apron, polo shirt and shapeless pants—knew my place. And it wasn’t at the top of the fashion food chain. I was working for a major bagel store (back when bagels were a thing) and the aforementioned outfit not only shielded me from continuous cream cheese assault but also from the world. This was my first foray wearing a uniform and my last. As a young guy with a burgeoning interest in fashion, design and textiles, I made a pact then and there I would never wear a uniform again. And while I’ve kept good on that day’s promise, I’ve opened my eyes to the world of workwear and its intrinsic chic, minimalist style. I’m not alone. The whole world of fashion is smitten with the clean lines and classic functionality of workwear. Some of my favorite designers reference workwear season after season while editors, stylists and bloggers have latched on to the ease and laidback luxury of pieces that were built to move.

A factory worker at the Paragon Rubber Co. plant in Mount Holyoke, Massachusetts. Photograph by Lewis Hine, 1936; image courtesy of the U.S. National Archives.

Not a whole lot has been written about the evolution of workwear. I thought the Internet would be abuzz since workwear has captured the hearts of street style denizens, but I did discover an informative book, Workwear: Work, Fashion, Seduction by Olivier Saillard and Oliviero Toscani (Mode, 2009). This is a comprehensive look at workwear’s impact throughout fashion history, its present prominence and its place as the uniform of the future. In between the impassioned words are striking photos of classic jackets, gloves and even gas masks as well as the fashion editorials and runway collections that have embraced and exaggerated the innate style of these items over the years.

Coal miners in Birmingham, Alabama, 1937. Photograph by Arthur Rothstein; image courtesy of Library of Congress.

Workwear originated in the professions of the earth such as farmers, coal miners, butchers, etc. where the need for a strong and resilient uniform emerged. These pieces had to perform just as hard as those who wore them and were never mistaken for stuffy and showy banker suits and office shirts. Workwear designs were durable and made of unfeigned fabrics like denim, waxed canvas and flannel. These materials were both more versatile and more affordable for the working class and allowed the everyman to get the job done.

The Levi’s Two Horse Logo was first branded onto the leather patch of the 501® jeans in 1886. The purpose of the graphic was to tout the strength of Levi’s pants. Image credit: Levi’s Facebook page.

Workwear is instinctively part of the American cultural anthropology. Big names in the field come from the USA including: Carhartt, established in 1889 in Dearborn, Michigan; Levi’s, originally created in San Francisco in 1853; and Red Wing shoes, named for the town in Minnesota where it was founded in 1905. At first workwear was purely agricultural in nature. During and following the Industrial Revolution and urbanization, people left the fields for the factories and railroads and workwear evolved to offer protection, breathability and comfort to these journeymen.

Alongside Levi’s and Carhartt to name a few, Red Wing shoes is a brand whose status as a long-standing, storied American company has cemented it as an important force in contemporary workwear fashion. Image credit: Clément.

Over time, these brands have seamlessly melded into modern, mainstream fashion, where they are more popular than ever. Workwear has experienced a surprising resurgence with young artists and urban dwellers who are attracted to the minimalist designs. Mainstream consumers have re-discovered workwear as the pendulum swings back toward quality construction over disposable, fast fashion. “Made in America” is also a major selling point. New artisans have crafted a niche in workwear and styles influenced by classic uniforms. Brands such as Joshu+Vela and J.L. Lawson & Co have firm roots in workwear but with forward vision and design. The Hudson Made Worker’s Apron also offers utility, relevance and practicality in the face of any job.

The Hudson Made Worker’s Apron, with its heavy-duty canvas and buckskin leather straps, is well suited for any manner of work—be it in an artist studio, a carpentry worskhop, or a kitchen.

Yet workwear has romanced high fashion as well. The techniques and craftsmanship have leapt from the fields and factories to the runway. And like many things in high fashion, Chanel is to blame. Coco Chanel famously chose comfort over constriction bringing chambrays and wide leg pants, styles associated with working hands, to the upper echelon post-World War I. In 1939, Chanel’s main competitor, Elsa Schiaparelli, also embraced workwear with a stylized overall. Designed in heavy midnight blue wool and proudly showcasing an exposed zipper that divided the overalls along the whole of the garment, Schiaparelli called it the Tenue d’Abri (translation: shelter suit). Schiaparelli cheekily stated that this was her suggestion for women looking for a rugged yet elegant one-piece to rapidly don before taking refuge in an air strike cellar during World War II. Mid-century saw denim, sweats and undershirts become de rigeur with Hollywood embracing the looks of the working class.

In the 1980s high end designers like Ralph Lauren started romanticizing the American worker and the iconography associated like trains, industrial equipment and farms. Lauren’s love affair with workear continued with his Spring 2012 menswear collection— a modern interpretation of Americana featuring rugged coated canvas, leather, cable knits and denim pieces. Rei Kawakubo, creative director of Comme des Garcons, has also shown many collections devoted to the work aesthetic, including the nouveau interpretation of railroad and chain gang stripes for Fall 2013.

The Spring/Summer 2012 collection for RRL was heavily influenced by workwear. Image source: Aspects of Cool.

But no designer truly fell in love with the construction and legacy of workwear like Yohji Yamamoto. Workwear: Work, Fashion, Seduction describes his introduction to the genre through the photographs of August Sanders who captured farmers and workers in their everyday garb. Yamamoto instantly was enamored with the patina on the workers garments and how the history of their experiences shined through their uniforms. It’s not just their form and structure, but the way time leaves its indelible mark on the pieces. In his spring 2003 collection, Yamamoto showed a series of six overalls, each increasing with grandeur and routine. This was a love letter to the rudimentary clothing that has taken over his thoughts. According to Style.com, Yamamoto’s fall 2013 collection features a series of “stripped-down black looks that were actually far from simple—complex, technical cutting prevailed in this workwear-inflected section, as it did throughout.”

Where is workwear headed next? The possibilities are as endless as the allure. A new generation steeped in urban and skate culture has appropriated workwear as its own, identifying with its social origins and blank canvas for interpretation. And really that’s always been the appeal: workwear reimagined in a way that is both modern and also pays homage to its utilitarian roots. I just hope it doesn’t involve bagels with cream cheese.

Discover these workwear-inspired products at Hudson Made:

Bourbon Worker’s Apron	Worker’s Soap	Canvas & Leather Dopp Kit

Mac Smith is a New York City based fashion writer who has never met a cat, coat or cake he didn’t love.