LC Montana Shirt
He rode into Great Falls in the autumn of 1880, another rich kid from the big city.
The locals harrumphed, “Montana ain’t St. Louis. Once the shine wears off, he’ll be gone quick as a duck on a junebug.”
The “shine” wore off.
He tried raising sheep; lost every sheep in the herd. Tried hunting; similar success. He lived a while with the Blood Indians. Taught himself how to paint.
He didn’t wrestle with the existential questions: didn’t know there were any. He painted what was around him. Grizzlies, buffalo, rustlers. Life.
In his own words: “I am an illustrator. There are lots better ones, but some worse. Any man that can make a living doing what he likes is lucky, and I am that.”
Men like him don’t travel in herds. You find them one at a time.
A Montana Shirt (No. 3682). I made it with yarn-dyed pure linen, and upon close observation, a very small checked pattern, because it was a feeling I had. Buttons are trocas shell. Flat felled seams. Two-button adjustable mitered cuffs with topstitching. Shirttail hem with gussets at side.