Somewhere between my sixth and seventh scotch at the Old Saloon in Pray, listening to Lynyrd Skynyrd as loud as we could make it go, the idea for this shirt hit me. The design came from the cowboy waving his fists at me and the utter feeling of comfort I had (surely due to the influence of Mr. Johnny Walker). I think Jack, the cowboy, thought it was a bit odd when I turned away and started writing notes on a napkin. The detente was achieved when Jack and I shared another whiskey talking over the old Montana. So take 100% cotton seersucker, wash it down, add snaps, chambray trim, and you've arrived at the Truckee. I love it. Imported.
