Residing in a wonderland of hipster delights, we briefly entertained the notion that a visit to a swanky men's store would allow us to inject a little freshness into our boyfriends' wardrobes. However, our trip to Stag on South Congress was an unmitigated disappointment.
Gentle reader, we hail from the dark north woods. We ply chainsaws up there, and one of us is no stranger to the utility of the quilted padding on the right shoulder of a plaid chamois shirt. We appreciate the beautiful utility of men's outdoor work wear and we sympathize with the erstwhile businessman who wishes he spent more time engaged in manly outdoor pursuits. These days we wish we did too.
There is an undeniable sexiness to once-stiff articles worn down by a single body's exertions into a shape at once intimate and protective, an unselfconscious record of experience. Machine-worn articles just don't fit the same way.
Rather than spending $150 on a butter-soft dove grey chamois shirt for your office-bound boyfriend at Stag, head to Cabella's and buy him a solid-color Woolrich chamois shirt. Make him wear it on a bunch of hikes. See if you can get him to split some wood.
We promise good results.