"If only clothing companies realized the market killing they'd make by weaving polo shirts to old-style trims," many a young man has cried as he holds up a modern polo shirt in the department store, fingering over-large flares of the short-sleeve cuffs with a grimace. Or maybe just me? A small and vanishing part of my summer wardrobe is a contingent of polo shirts from my father's mothballed closet and Goodwill; nothing younger than twenty years and, consequently, nothing in better than fair condition. I discovered them in the retro heyday of the mid-1990s and have been enjoying them since. Here at my sister's house, I wore one yesterday and was chided for the "air-conditioning" available to my shirt's left armpit. But nobody notices if I don't raise my arms, I protested, to heartier laughter.
This morning's Washington Post has a powerful, thoughtful George Will column. It also has a half-page article in the Style section on, as the subtitle explains, "Old-School Polo Shirts." Brotherhood I have found:
The boys of summer are topping their cargo shorts and jeans with sporty polos. These aren't the loose, long variety rampant a few years back — they're snug and retro, with many by brands your dad oncewore. "Our shirts are rooted in 1950s and '60s suburbia," says Chris Kolbe, vice president of Original Penguin, a mid-century brand resurrected by Perry Ellis International in 2003. "We're taking the original styles popular with Bob Hope, Bing Crosby and Arnold Palmer and focusing on different colors, fits and fabrics to make them more relevant to twenty-something guys."
Cotton-polyster kept me happy, Mr. Kolbe. But since you're offering, I accept. A minute of mouse-clicking and my search is complete: Urban Outfitters stocks Original Penguin polos. My money will will be well-spent, operative word "spent."