Man-tle and the cult of craft

I HAVE A SHIRT from Man-tle that sits as though it’s floating on my body. The cut is generous, its armholes deep, and there’s enough room in the sleeves and chest that when I hold my arms up, it inflates with air. But the shirt’s fabric was the biggest revelation: a densely woven cotton designed to crease into a papery texture with time and wear. At first, it was so stiff that I had the childish urge to ball it up and throw it in the air, eager to speed up its patina. In other words, it made me realise – and appreciate – this was a piece of clothing that would grow and change with me. It demanded I wear it in. Read more at Esquire (Australia).