Blog 0017

Searching for Made-in-the-USA Clothing

by Stan Paregien SrNov. 6, 2012

stanparegien@gmail.comEdmond, OK

Okay, you're right. I'm a glutton for punishment. Blog 0015 detailed my last shopping experience in which I found nothing but labels saying, "Made in X" (X = not the USA; a foreign country).

However, optimism rules. Right?

Well, in my case and in recards to shirts and pants made in the USA, I have become a certified critic and pessimist. I'm truly sorrow, but that is the God-awful truth of the matter.

Here are the nitty, gritty details of how that spiral continued since Blog 0015.

I'm kinda proud to say that I have lost over 35 pounds since last spring. No, I'm not sick (unless you count being sick of shopping). I intentionally set out to change my lifestyle, foregoing "forever and ever, amen" my previous evening tradition of a bowl of ice cream and two or three (well, maybe five or six) Oreo cookies.

Anyway, as the result of my weight loss, my current clothes fit me a little like Ho Ho the Clown's. So I decided to go shopping for a pair of 38 x 32 black dress pants and a couple of shirts (down from a necksize of 17 1/2 to 16 1/2). So far my 34/35 shirt sleeve lenth has not been altered by my weight loss. And I definitely wanted to buy clothes made in America.

Ah, dear reader, that is where the rub began.

And does "USA 1851" referto the last year their clothes

were made in the USA?

First, I went to the giant box store named Kohls. Man, they had isle after isle of colorful stylish shirts and nearly as many rows of dress pants. My first thought was, "Hey, there's gotta be at least a few 'Made in America' duds in all of this."

Well, I was wrong about that just like I was wrong about Nixon and Carter and Clinton and Obama. I wasn't just "barely" wrong; I was way out in Disneyland wrong. There was not a "Made in America" dress pant or dress shirt in the whole store. None. Nada. Zip.

I even stopped one young female clerk and asked her to help me in my search. "Oh, sure, I'll help you," she said with a burst of optimism. It was, unfortunately, optimism based on simple ignorance and misinformation. She really hadn't thought about all of those clothes being foreign made. After a few minutes, she gave up and walked away.

So I wandered around, looking here and there, for the elustive "Made in America" label. That's when an older lady--no doubt wiser and more experienced than the previous clerk--happened by. When I told her I couldn't find any dress pants or dress shirts made in the USA, she just shrugged her shoulders and said: "Yeah, I know. We don't do any of the buying on the store level. It is all done at headquarters, and this is what they send for us to sell."

Strike three.

Well, I left there and drove to the big Quail Springs Mall in Oklahoma City, there to ratchet up my quest for my "Made in the USA" dress pants and dress shirts.

This time I went to a "higher end" (i.e., higher priced) store; I went to the "Thanksgiving Parade" people, dear ol' Macys.

Once again, I saw piles and piles of colorful dress shirts and several areas with dress pants. So I rushed right in, only to learn that this was just another place where angels even fear to tread. I spent several minutes looking in every nook and cranny, but had no success. The only sales lady who even noticed me could only say, "No, I really don't think we have what you're after." She didn't even bother to look.

"No problem," says I with stars still dancing in my head. I walked a half-block through the mall to JC Pennys. Now there's an American store for you, if ever there was one. Or so I thought.

I went up and down the isles picking up shirt after shirt and dress pant after dress pant. There was not a "Made in the USA" garment in the bunch. Not even one. I was getting depressed. And before I left there I was angry.

The anger kicked in when I passed a rather large display of both the University of Oklahoma and Oklahoma State University sportswear. To the shame of both the Sooners and the Cowboys, all those sweatshirts, polo shirts, T-shirts and so forth were made outside the USA. Oh, sure, they had the Offical, certified blessing of the universities. But, apparently, those university leaders who make such decisions were not willing to say, "Make 'em in the USA or forget it." The almight Buck still speaks loud and clear.

"Since 1878" may be the last time theirshirts were made in the U.S.A.

I bought a cup of coffee at Chic-fil-A (hey, the coffee used to be free . . . but times change, huh). I pondered weak and weary, like the character in Edgar Allen Poe's "The Raven," and then I hit on a magnificent idea. I would hit the road and drive 15 miles or so across town to Shepler's Western Wear, a bastion of "Americana" if ever there was one.

Well, add that idea to my "loss" column.

I was greeted cheerfully by the lonely girl at the cash register (they all have copied Walmart's style, haven't they?). So I asked her, point blank, whether they had any "Made in the USA" pants or shirts.

I should have saved my breath.

"Oh, sure we do," she said with a no-hint-of-reality smile. "Why, we have lots of brands like Wranglers and Justins."

"Darlin'," (I'm old enough to say that now with absolute impunity) I said, "that don't mean squat."

Forgive me, but squat wasn't nearly as strong a word as I could have/should have used.

The first Wrangler shirt I picked up said on the label, "Made in Bangledesh." Heck, that's almost as bad as hot sauce being labled "Made in New York City." Well, almost.

It seems that Wrangler has a really big love affair with products made in Bangledesh. I wanted to stomp across Texas, not waltz across it, when I looked at a really nice Western shirt in ol' George Strait's line of Wrangler clothes. Because it, too, said "Made in Bangledesh."

I was getting weak in the knees so I crawled toward the exit. On the way I passed a table with some Larry Mahan cowboy hats and the boxes said they were by the Milano Company and made in Texas. Texas. Really.

Of course, Texas prides itself on being "a whole 'nother county" so maybe it should count as a foreign country. But, feeling quite generous (no, make that desperate), I was glad to see it. But I still left the store with no purchases.

On the way back to my home in Edmond, Oklahoma, another of those "lightbulb" moments happened. I've still got one shot. I'll try the mother of homegrow America, my local Tractor Supply Company (TSC). Hallelujah, rescue was nigh.

Turns out my rescue was nigh to impossible. And there were "no" men's pants or shirts in that store made-in-America. None. Oh, I thought for a moment I had found salvation when I spotted a rack of Cathcart jeans. But the first one that I picked up said, "Made in Nicaragua with components from Mexico." How nice.In absolute retreat, I picked up a Justin straw cowboy hat and flipped it over. There on the belly side was the awful truth: "Made in Mexico."

I couldn't stand it any longer. Dragging my defeats behind me, I slithered home like a snake on its belly. I was feeling mighty low. Mighty low.

There you have it, friends and neighbors, my personal day of infamy that will be etched in my memory forever. I will never shop in a nonchalent attitude again. I will read labels. And I will exhaust every effort to buy only "Made in the USA" products. That's my plan.

What is your plan?