Ichiban and Nancy shirt

Product Description

Daylight that mythical Ichiban and Nancy shirt creature mostly glimpsed out of the office window in the 27 months since Christmas, now stretches into the evenings. On the street, the candy-sweet chime of the ice-cream van harmonises with the lazy hum of Lime bikes. This can mean only one thing. The time has come. You open your wardrobe and reach for a floral dress. It is a rite of spring. Except that every year this precious moment is tarnished, just a little bit, by the voice in your head that insists on snarkily quoting The Devil Wears Prada. You know the line. “Florals? For spring? Groundbreaking,” says fashion magazine editor Miranda Priestly, withering a million ditsy prints on the vine without even raising her voice. But you know what? I want to wear a floral print dress when spring springs. So sue me. It is not reinventing the wheel, I get that, but it’s not supposed to be. Florals for spring isn’t about fashion, which is why fashion people are sniffy about them. Florals for spring is a ritual, a marker of time passing, a celebration of having got through another winter. Like taking the umbrella out of your bag and replacing it with a pair of sunglasses, it is as much a statement of hope as of expectation.

Ichiban and Nancy shirt, hoodie, sweater, longsleeve and ladies t-shirt

Unisex tshirt

Women’s tshirt

Longsleeve tshirt

Sweaters

Hoodies

In 2013 Ichiban and Nancy shirt the Rana Plaza garment factory collapsed, killing nearly 1,200 low-wage garment workers. The eight-storey complex in Dhaka, Bangladesh, had manufactured clothing for Walmart, JCPenney, Primark and Mango, among others. The collapse was a tragedy – and a media tipping point. For a while it really felt like the realities of fast-fashion production were reaching the masses. How could anyone read about the deaths of those workers and walk into a Primark again? Wasn’t it clear that the conditions and exploitations at Rana Plaza were endemic to the entire fast-fashion industry? For years I remained a loyal reader of the blogs. Then the bloggers moved to Instagram. But the internet was changing. The fashion girls I loved were becoming more like advertisers, tagging the brands in their outfits in every post and occasionally doing sponsored content. Instagram became like a shopping mall, adding features that allowed you to buy clothes straight from the app. I missed the uniqueness and idiosyncrasy of the blogging era. The fashion subcultures I loved were subsumed by the logic of algorithms.