Some Interesting Articles On Fashion
Why Fabric Is the Future of Menswear
By Sarena Sambo
In early 2026, men’s fashion isn’t just changing how it looks, but how it functions.
You may have seen it in a recent fashion newsletter titled Do You Ever Dress Like Robert Mitchum?—a quiet fascination with old-world menswear has been making its way back into modern style.
That same sensibility is now visible across New York City this winter, not through nostalgia, but through how men are dressing for the cold with intention.
In place of bulky, logo-driven layers, a more European approach has taken hold: tailored coats, fine wool sweaters, structured trousers or elevated denim.
Coats and jackets still anchor these looks, but what’s changed is what’s worn underneath—high-quality fabrics now do the real work of insulation.
It’s a look built around fabric and proportion rather than trend, one that prioritizes warmth through quality rather than quantity.
This makes the style especially suited to the seasonal shift toward spring, when thoughtful layering matters more than piling pieces on.
It also reflects the new direction of modern menswear, where sharp winds and freezing temperatures demand clothing that performs without sacrificing elegance.
Menswear traditions rooted in craftsmanship have long understood that tightly woven wool, cashmere blends, and heavier cottons hold heat more effectively than synthetic layers.
That fabric-first philosophy is now reshaping how American men approach winter dressing.
A single beautifully made sweater under a structured coat can provide the same warmth as multiple casual layers, while preserving a clean, refined silhouette.
The result is a quieter kind of luxury. Nothing about it is flashy, but everything about it feels intentional.
It’s the confidence of knowing your clothes are doing what they’re supposed to do—protecting you from the cold, shaping your look, and carrying you smoothly from winter into spring.
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A SINGULAR TAKE ON FASHION |
Cowichan Sweaters
By Eric Langlois
It’s sweater season here in the Northeast. I’ve got my cozy roll-neck sweaters, my light-weight cashmere sweaters for layering, and my soft cotton sweaters for lounging around the house.
One of my favorite sweater designs is a heavy, shawl collar cardigan, of which I have several.
There’s something extremely comforting about the thick collars of these sweaters that protect your neck and shoulders from the cold, as well as their patch front pockets into which you can stuff your hands on chilly days.
Earlier this year I picked up a vintage cardigan with a distinctive color-work knitting pattern, and that sent me down a rabbit hole about the Cowichan sweater.
The Cowichan tribes, a group of Coast Salish people, are native to Southeastern Vancouver Island, on the West coast of Canada.
Today the Cowichan Tribes is the single largest First Nations band in British Columbia, and they have a long-standing textile tradition, weaving materials from cedar bark, and goat or dog hair.
They created a variety of crafts, but the old-world traditions of knitting and sheep farming were not introduced to the area until the 19th Century.
In 1858, four Catholic nuns from Montreal opened a schoolhouse in Victoria, British Columbia, teaching the indigenous children of the area a variety of skills, including knitting.
Around the same time, sheep were introduced to the area and the Cowichan people quickly adopted both skills, developing a robust knitting tradition.
Much like the Aran Islanders in Western Ireland, the Cowichan used thick, lanolin-heavy yarn to make their sweaters, which resisted the damp weather of the Pacific Northwest.
The original Cowichan sweaters were made in a single color, but in 1885 a Scottish settler by the name of
Jerimina Colvin introduced colorwork techniques from her native Shetland Islands.
Cowichan artists began developing their own patterns, which incorporated traditional motifs such as elk, eagle, and orca, using the natural shades of different yarns to achieve the effect.
These sweaters were usually made as shawl collar cardigans, either belted or with button closure.
The popularization of the zipper in the 1930s led to its incorporation into the design, and today most native-made Cowichan sweaters have a zip closure.
By the early 20th Century, Cowichan sweaters had spread beyond Vancouver Island and gained popularity among outdoor enthusiasts in the Pacific Northwest.
A cottage industry developed, as Cowichan knitters produced and sold their sweaters which became a symbol of indigenous Canadian art forms.
Celebrities like Steve McQueen and Marylin Monroe were photographed in them in the mid-century, and knitting patterns were sold around the world.
A Cowichan-style sweater featured prominently in Starsky and Hutch, and was supposedly personally owned by Starsky’s actor, Paul Michael Glaser.
In 1991, a zip-front Pendleton sweater was worn by Jeff Bridges in The Big Lebowski, raising the style’s profile again.
Unfortunately, native knitters were often under-compensated by the middlemen who sold and popularized their work, and traditional designs began to be produced by non-native companies, profiting off the Cowichan name and reputation.
While companies like Pendleton, Ralph Lauren, and the Hudson’s Bay Company produce Cowichan influenced garments, today the Cowichan trademark is protected by the tribal government and the Cowichan name is reserved for native-made sweaters, with those from other producers generally sold under the name “Canadian Sweaters.”
As traditional Cowichan sweaters are hand-knit, their availability from First Nations producers has naturally been limited, particularly with the aging population of dedicated knitters.
The low prices commanded by most knitwear relative to the time and effort required to create a hand-knit sweater also squeezed the traditional artisans, who found themselves in competition with industrial knitting factories.
However, the renewed interest in knitting worldwide in the last couple of decades, as well as a particular interest in traditional crafts among native peoples, have resulted in more Cowichans being made and sold from indigenous sources.
My sweater is not technically a Cowichan, but rather a Cowichan-style or Canadian sweater.
The main clue is the colorwork, which is done in two shades of blue rather than using the natural colors of wool to achieve a similar effect.
I also suspect that it may be an acrylic or acrylic blend yarn, a theory supported by my partner who has much more knitting experience than me.
The lack of tags points to it being a home knit project, and I suspect (with little real evidence) that it was made around the 1970s, when the Cowichan style was particularly popular.
It’s one of many vintage sweaters of the type that are available, both native-made and not, although it can be difficult to tell whether a sweater is a true Cowichan or not.
When buying new, I would highly recommend seeking out a native-made sweater, either through an accredited retailer or directly contacting one of the knitters promoted by the Cowichan Tribes government resources.
Knit With Purpose, a company managed by the Victoria Native Friendship Center, sells handmade Cowichan sweaters online, with the lion’s share of the profits going to the artisans.
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