THE rich loam, the life-giving splash of water, the fiery warmth of the sun: these elements
we combine on our allotted span of earth to bring forth fresh produce. We dig for victory! We hoe for productivity! On a small stretch
of land meted out by the borough, we till the soil and plant the seeds of revolution. Let the supply chains shatter, for our inspiration is
Grow your own way — that is the principle we live by, the creed in our very marrow.
In rugged and nubbled linen weaves, we nurture and propagate, creating new crops season upon season. Like market gardeners, we sprinkle
water on our seedlings to cultivate new fruits: cool-washed hessian, cold-dyed organza, and liquid patterns activated by heat. We bed down the leaves of appliqué, layer by layer. Our sleeves are grown on, organic; our garments bound together with cords and tapes like stalks tethered to a beanpole.
The time is ripe for self-reliance — and its uniform is modern workwear, durable and weathered like a creosote fence. For whatever challenges
we may face, there is some corner of a municipal field that is forever
T O O G O O D.