I told them the truth, that without them, there would be no Bards Clothing. No business. No me. I could tell they hadn’t heard that enough from brand owners.

Making It in America: The Almost Impossible Quest to Manufacture in the U.S.A. by Rachel Slade is a nonfiction exploration of the challenges and possibilities of reviving domestic manufacturing in the United States.

At Bards Clothing, we believe the clothes you wear should move with you, breathe with you, and carry the story of where you've been. Linen does all that, and more. It doesn’t demand perfection. It invites presence.

Think of the warp as the vertical threads held tight on a loom—like the foundation or backbone of the fabric. These threads run lengthwise, creating tension and structure. The weft, on the other hand, is the horizontal thread that is woven back and forth over and under the warp, interlacing to form the fabric itself.

The floating canvas isn’t about luxury for luxury’s sake. It’s about respect. For the craft. For your story. For the long road a garment should travel.

Culturally, the dandy was a disruptor. In a world where birthright often trumped merit, he used dress as a tool of self-invention. Tailoring became his armor and his microphone—every perfect lapel, starched collar, and tailored waistcoat was a declaration: I define myself. This wasn't vanity, but philosophy stitched into cloth.

By the early 20th century, ready-to-wear clothing exploded in popularity. It was convenient, affordable, and offered the average person a way to keep up with rapidly changing trends. Brands flourished, factories roared to life, and what you wore became as much about what was available as it was about who you were.

Imagine this: it’s the 13th century. You’re a nobleman in England, and your calves have never looked better. Why? Because your tailor knows you. Not like “he follows you on Instagram” knows you—but he knows your measurements, your taste, your station in society. This is the birth of bespoke.

By the 1990s, with the rise of fast fashion and offshoring, tariffs had become less about protecting American industries and more about facilitating global commerce. The result? A rapid decline in domestic clothing manufacturing. At one point, 98% of the clothes Americans wore were made on American soil. Today, that number is closer to 2%.

As a small business owner who proudly makes clothing in America, I’d love to tell you that these new tariffs won’t touch me. But plot twist: they absolutely will—and not in the cute, “support local” kind of way.

Let’s start with the shirt on your back (literally). Fun fact: there are no cotton mills in the U.S. that produce shirt-weight fabrics. Zero. Zilch. Nada. That crisp button-down? The fabric had to be imported. Which means my manufacturer now has to pay more for the materials. And guess who’s next in line? Me. And after me? Yep, you.

Before you can define your style, take stock of what’s already working for you. That blouse you wear on repeat? There’s a reason. That blazer you never touch? Let it go. According to Vogue, “Creating a uniform doesn’t limit your creativity—it refines it.” Knowing your go-to silhouettes, colors, and fabrics simplifies everything from shopping to getting dressed in the morning.

Let’s get one thing straight: You are not off-the-rack, so why should your clothes be?

Friends, we’re here to bust that myth and introduce you to the magic of lightweight wool—a game-changer for warm-weather weddings.

Choosing what to wear on your big day isn’t just about looking sharp—it’s about feeling like the best version of yourself. Whether you're saying I do under cherry blossoms, golden summer skies, or crisp autumn leaves, here’s how to dress for the occasion with timeless elegance and effortless style.

Built for miners and cowboys, denim became the uniform of the working class—tough, reliable, and ready for anything.

What it’s like to walk inside a shirt factory in Newark, New Jersey.