Josh Ritter – To the Dogs or Whoever
On the train into work this morning, I read Mary-Louis Parker’s endorsement of Josh Ritter in Esquire and felt compelled to share a song. I first heard Mr. Ritter singing “Come and Find Me” in the spring of my senior year of college while fully embracing my writerly whims. And every spring since, whether in conversation with friends, through the words of a famous actress, or due to his relentless touring, I re-encounter his masterful songwriting and performing.
If you haven’t, seek him out. His words are well-chosen, his imagery precise, and his live show is one of the most joyous occasions you will ever experience.
Official Website.
More music available through The Hype Machine.
Images c/o Dean Chalkley
“N-A-S-C-A-R, that’s spells love, buddy.”
- M. Wastler, circa 2000.
Excitedly awaiting the photos of one Mr. Foster Huntington and his day at the races, Bristol, Tennesee.
Image c/o Covenger + Kester, by way of the Square America snapshot archive.
Foster and I, buzzed from a combination of excitement and old boot smell, started in on some of the jackets. Mrs. Porter and her colleagues have collected and hung them by decade. As we trudged deeper into the closet, the fabrication grew tougher, heavier. I imagined gearing up for a big hunt, lacing 12″ high Maine Hunting Shoes over heavy rag wool socks; layering moleskin trousers over my dark red long johns; sporting chambray and wool over a red River Driver shirt and finally a coat fashioned of shearling, leather, and heavy duck canvas – topped off with a fur collar. The thought alone was exhausting.
And then Foster spotted a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
This “nugget” as Foster was quick to call it, a women’s jacket from the early seventies, immediately reminded me of a jacket that appeared last year in Japanese publication Free & Easy.
I know Daiki Suzuki of Engineered Garments and Woolrich Woolen Mills has done something similar in recent years as well. The Rainbow Lake jacket was in pristine condition. It hadn’t been worn. The color, in particular the red and the blue were so lush, technicolor, they popped. As Foster and I stood there, gushing, he whispered, “Try it on.”
“No way!” I hushed back.
“You wanna try it on?” Mrs. Porter, rolling Maine accent, asked from across the room. “G’head.”
Go ahead I did.
I’m not quite a women’s 10, but the jacket was so cool. I would love to see a designer pick this up and run with it.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. One of the most handsome plaids I’ve ever seen, this Maine Hunting Coat from 1917 was a real find. The documentation that accompanied it included a photograph of the owner along with an inscription. Mrs. Porter mentioned that there are photos of L.L. Bean wearing the same coat. Mr. Bean’s personal endorsement was a selling point in their catalogues, and I imagine pictures of him using the products hammered the point home.
Leaving the archives, Foster and I were thoroughly exhausted. He’d taken over 800 photographs, filling his memory cards to capacity. I couldn’t and I still can’t believe our good fortune. The time we were given there was plenty to get a feel for the archive. I would love to go back with a game plan. The folks who organized the visit could not have been more helpful, and Mrs. Ruth Porter in particular could not have been more warm or welcoming. I’ve said to friends it may have been one the best days of my life, and I laugh as I write it down here, not because it isn’t true, but because it’s most likely an understatement.
I look forward to posting more of these “field trips” in the weeks and months to come. If you have suggestions or comments for future excursions, please be in touch. I would love to know your thoughts.
Look this weekend for a round-up of stories and images that did not make it into our posts here at all plaidout and A Restless Transplant.
Be sure to check out Foster’s post from today as I’m sure you WWII buffs will love one of the coats he’s featuring.
ACL knocks another one out of the park with his selection of ball caps from the Cooperstown Collection. You can bet I will proudly sport these puppies at Citi Field this June when my beloved Cardinals come to town.
That. Ball. Is. Gone! 
St. Louis Browns, 1952-53
St. Louis Cardinals, 1942
Images c/o The LIFE Archive and mlb.com
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ov_63AACotc]
Special thanks to Boots on the Fly, this clip from Bill Green’s Maine featured on Portland’s WCSH Channel 6 features the factory, Ruth Porter and the archive, and several of the employees featured in our post on the factory.
Ruth Porter is a Mainer. Slow-talking, droll, she’d scoot as she walked to the hermetically sealed door. She turned to Foster and I, grinned slightly, and rolled her eyes at the sight of two grown men, ebullient at what awaited us inside Art & Archives.
Bean Boot with Kilty
“Sure go ahead,” she said, unfazed, as we hesitated to touch anything. Mrs. Porter opened her home at the archives of L.L. Bean, and every clichéd childlike metaphor I could apply wouldn’t do justice to how we felt. Giddy, standing outside her “candy shop,” Mrs. Porter gave Foster Huntington and I full access to their archive. The amber color of the low wattage fluorescent lighting took some getting used to, as did the knobby cotton gloves. At one point, a glib Mrs. Porter remarked, “Yeah, the Minnie Mouse jokes are never-ending with the guys in design.”
An early version of the Rubber Moc, I love the elegance of the wingtip toe.
Mrs. Porter is a student of history, and the history of L.L. Bean is illustrious, as she was easily able to demonstrate. Roughly ten to twelve heavy aluminum shelves were set on rollers. Each shelf was jam-packed with close to a hundred year’s worth of everything from matchbooks to oil paintings, rods and reels to the earliest iteration of the hunting jacket. Mrs. Porter had a story for all of them. A menswear designer’s dream of an inspiration room, I was ready to pull out the Therm-a-Rest and set up camp.
The stitching above this heel looks like a dagger.
These boots were petrified. The sole looked like it’d been dipped in heavily leaded cherry red paint.
Look for that “B” on a new style of boot coming this fall.
The signature chain link only made it to the heel on the old Moc. Note the incredible wear on the toes.
A new arrival to the archive, this donation included a note that claimed L.L. Bean once wore these moccasins. Foster was quick to point out some dried blood around the back of the left boot cuff. After finishing her research, when Mrs. Porter sends word, I will provide the full history for this beautiful boot.
Up next, Foster and I will feature some of the clothes from the archives. If you haven’t, head over to A Restless Transplant and see all his beautiful photos.
All images (c) 2009 Foster Huntington.
Leaving the factory in Brunswick, Foster and I agreed, we could’ve stayed there all day. It was awe-inspiring, but in order to get a fuller picture of Bean, I wanted to sit down with a few of the folks who make the big decisions. Production Manager, Anne Smith, and head of Design, Jim Hauptman were gracious enough to show us around Footwear and Design.
As L.L. Bean expands their retail emporium – they’ve currently established brick & mortar stores in ten states – it has become of increasing importance that they simplify wherever possible. Prior to Mr. Hauptman’s appointment, the men’s, women’s, and kid’s design departments didn’t share anything. Since coming on, he has encouraged the obvious: communication. Keeping an idea board cluttered with post-it notes and nurturing team members to share cost, and time-saving ideas, Mr. Hauptman, one-time ad executive, is cleaning up the process one step at a time. If you’ve read Chairman of the Board, Leon Gorman’s book, L.L. Bean: The Making of an American Icon, you know all too well, the challenges he faced in streamlining the operations once taking the reigns from company founder and namesake, Leon Leonwood Bean. Mr. Hauptman is, like with most things at this company, carrying on the tradition. As we left his office, beginning a tradition of our own, Foster and I conferred, again, “That guy is being groomed to run the company someday.”
In meeting with Anne Smith, as anticipated, we were shown a bunch of cool, new products Bean will be offering coming Fall ’09 and Spring ’10, and we were shown several updated styles (a waxwear version, one lined with the Norwegian sweater, a classic Bean Scotch plaid, etc.) of Bean Boot – yes, that Bean Boot, the iconic one – that’d been dropped from the assortment for one reason or another, and we were told we weren’t allowed to take photos. As the saying goes, if it ain’t broke….
That said, she did bring to my attention a boot they currently offer. The Katahdin, a rugged work boot is produced by Chippewa. It’s made in my home state of Missouri, in a small southwestern town called Carthage.
Both Anne and Jim reiterated the point that L.L. Bean has built itself around staples. Their styles don’t change very often, and when they do – as with the switch from vulcanized rubber to the injection-molded rubber for the Bean Boots – it is well-researched, done as seamlessly as possible, and you better believe it is for a good reason. The customer, as they’re currently experiencing, will come back.
The customer returns time and again, because L.L. Bean offers such quality across the board: quality products, quality guarantees on everything they sell, and quality customer service [have you ever called L.L. Bean? Try it: 1 (800) 441-5713, the nice person on the end of the line will be from one of their four call centers in Maine, and they'll answer promptly].
What will happen to the look and feel of L.L. Bean as they continue to expand? Mr. Bean insisted the company, its catalogue, and all accompanying materials have the look and feel of something from a family-owned general store. Their model has been successful for nearly a century, may it be successful for centuries more.
Stay tuned, as Foster and I head over to Art & Archives where Ruth Porter was kind enough to show us around her treasure trove.
Also, check out Foster’s photos of our visit to HQ.
I just watched the iPhone 3 Software Launch.
As I prepare to jump ship and invest in my first iPhone (4/1), I’ve been paying close attention to all the buzz. Along with the rest of the world, I was very happy to learn they’ve instituted cut, copy, and paste, but while watching the announcement, I couldn’t shake the thought that these men, speaking in front of millions of people, all look terrible.
I understand Silicon Valley’s need or desire to appear casual. It’s cool. I get it, but failing to take time to give a bit of thought to what you’re going to look like for a hotly anticipated presentation, one that will be watched by millions, is a bit like going to battle without your armor.
Of all the men who presented, Apple’s Greg Joswiak, wins best dressed, and that’s by default. At the very least, his staid striped shirt fit, his dad-approved denim was not the loosest-fitting of the crew, and he was fairly well-kempt (i.e. shave and a haircut). But Mr. Joswiak, if I may, just tuck in your shirt; now, leave it there for an hour and a half.
Images of the launch c/o engadget
If I had any reason to speak in front of people in Cupertino, California today, this is what I would have worn,* for better or worse.
*Let me begin by setting a few ground rules. Based on those in attendance, I gathered denim is fare game, but tennis shoes are not. No one wore a tie, and the only jackets were an ill-fitting suit jacket and a velour job. I don’t foresee a velour jacket purchase any time soon, and if I was the only guy wearing a suit jacket that fit, I’d probably take it off.
Ryan Huber and his partners at Madison, Wisconsin’s Context provided a great base with this look. The military shirt is from Apolis Activism. The jeans are the New Standard from APC. 
I have wanted the Pelican Belt from F.M. Allen ever since seeing it on Hollister’s blog. If I were invited to speak at Apple’s headquarters, I’d treat myself to a new belt.
I found an old pair of Florsheim wingtips in the dusty basement of a theatre when I was in college. I’ve been told they’re from the sixties. I have worn the soles out two or three times. I will continue to do so until someone begs me to stop. A pair of Kenmoor from Florsheim’s Imperial line look awfully similar, and they are well-priced.
To keep myself honest, I’d wear Emmett Brown’s plutonic undershirt and Casio’s Databank Watch, Model DBC-610G-1DF.
Miniot, a Holland-based company Porter Hovey brought to my attention, make fine wooden cases for iPod and iPhone products.
Keep it simple. Have a little fun. Look the part. Buy clothes that fit you. That’s all for now. I’m allplaidout.
Special thanks to Joe G. for the idea.
Walking into L.L. Bean’s factory in Brunswick, Maine feels exactly like it should. It smells of stale solvents; of tannery leathers oiled thick as an outfielder’s glove in mid-September; of raw canvas so heavy and fibrous that filaments cling to the insides of my nostrils. These smells, they fight for air as people flit back and forth in small work stations, moving through tasks with the grace and ease of highly skilled dancers. It looks like a factory should: a collection of task-specific machines designed by the very workers who use them every day, because, unlike the iconic Bean Boots produced here, you can’t find a triple-stitch machine in a catalogue. Each station has been retro-fitted to suit the assigned employee, right down to decorated oscillating fans and CD players blaring “Bleeding Love,” by Leona Lewis into cheap Chinese headphones; “It’s one way to make it through the day,” the stitcher yarns in an accent thick as a lobster roll. It sounds like a factory should sound: plenty of drumming and punching and carwonging, the zip of the skiving machine, the heavy-hammer thunk of the leather press….
MaryJo Tufts gets into the spirit of St. Patrick’s Day while she works the needle.
At one time, the region was rife with industry, but the smaller companies have, for the most part, folded, and the bigger ones have outsourced their factory work. Not Bean, though; to their credit, the creator of the classic duck boot and a now ubiquitous canvas tote has weathered swinging economies and the coming and going of trends of every variety. Offering high quality, affordable products and first-class customer service, they stand for all that is truly great about America. While other heritage brands clamber to collaborate with hot, young designers, Bean has, thus far, stayed the course, offering relatively unchanged classic American styles and inviting the customer to return to them. Time and again. Time and again.
The Bean Boot was an invention of necessity. Leon Leonwood Bean, Maine-based shop owner and avid outdoorsman, noticed that when traipsing around the wet woods his leather boots would become water-logged and rotten. Rubber boots would dry out over time and crack. In collaboration with his cobbler, he lopped off the top half of a rubber boot and, using glue and thread, attached a soft leather upper which could be laced tight. Despite early failures – the first 90 pair were returned due to cracked rubber or the separating of the leather from the seam (hence, Mr. Bean’s insistence on the triple stitch) – the boots went through several trial variations until they settled on the two versions offered today. Both the Bean Boot and the Maine Hunting Shoe feature injection molded rubber, steel shanks and a chainlink tread.
The boots differ in the composition of their rubber. The Bean Boot has a stiffer construction that holds up well over time and withstands just about anything. I own a pair of the Maine Hunting Shoes. I like their flexibility. I don’t know if they allow me to “feel the forest floor,” as the company’s description claims, but for someone who does a lot of walking, I can barely tell that they are on my feet. For much of this winter, I only wore Maine Hunting Shoes. 
Saturday at dawn, beneath the blood orange sun of a walk in the cool, crisp air of Freeport, Maine, I peered down at my boots in disbelief. The day after learning about the repair process, I discovered a small break in the rubber of my late 1980s Maine Hunting Shoe. It may be time for a repair. Foster’s post on the repair process is a must-read.
Tammy Seguin in boot repair, a 14-year veteran of the factory, has a collection of great stories from all the customers she’s helped. Of all the stories, my favorite involved a repair for an Alaskan Inuit with a return address of “Igloo Eight.”
Jack Samson (L) and George Fox (R) listen as Tammy Seguin tells the tale of Igloo Eight.
She showed us a pair of boots from a construction worker in Missouri with concrete chunks clinging to the rubber like barnacles to a battlecruiser, a grass-caked twosome from a landscape artist in North Carolina, and a blood-stained three-eyed set, courtesy of an avid buck hunter from right there in Maine.
“Do you ask them to clean them?”
“No, but Lordy, with the smell, sometimes I wish we would.”
I asked her what the worst smell tends to be. “Fish,” she replied with a belly laugh.
Quick with a knife, mean on the machines, Tammy capped this heel in less than 10 seconds.
“I call it ‘Half Calf.’”
I especially enjoyed our lecture from Norm Bellmare (L), the leather man, on the different prices, weights, and cuts of the genuine hides. Although, it says something about me that he made a point to include that this piece was only cut from half the cow.
Note that Connie Rose wears her wedding ring on the outside of her work gloves.
As might be expected, the Boat and Totes department, nestled behind all the boot folk, is far more serene. That isn’t to say the people behind the machines in toteland are any less hardy. They pump out several hundred of the sturdy canvas bags, with their intricate folds, double reinforcement, and high-quality construction each day.
Ann Chartier’s sewing machine spits the handle’s fabric quickly and in a loop pattern.
The bags were originally built as ice carriers, meant to transport ice from the car to the ice box.
Each side of the base is stitched to the Leaping Labs Boat & Tote in one fell swoop.
The machine built to attach the double-layer base to each bag is set with two sewing machines and microscopic cameras affixed above each needle. They work in tandem to streamline the process.
Crab Bag: The canvas for the Tidepool is cut and ready to become a Boat & Tote.
Leaving the factory, as I waved goodbye to the fine people who’ve made this their life’s work, I wondered to myself why Americans assume the production of high quality, stylish, and affordable products like the two shown here is no longer possible in our country. As author Anne Wilson Schaef has said, “Differences challenge assumptions.” L.L. Bean: Different, and with good reason.
Brenda Smith applies Bean’s signature triple-stitch construction to a new pair of Bean Boots.
Stayed tuned tomorrow when I talk about our visit to the company’s headquarters where we met with the production and design teams.
Be sure to check out Foster’s post over at A Restless Transplant for more on our visit.
All images (c) Foster Huntington, 2009.