Pete Searson, co-founder of Tellason, vividly remembers the day his business partner, Tony Patella, received the call from a sales rep.
“He said, ‘Hey, Tony, are you sitting down?’ He literally said that. And Tony goes, ‘You’re going to tell me [White Oak] is closing, aren’t you?’ The rep says, ‘How did you know?’ And Tony was like, ‘How could they not be closing?’”
Searson and Patella visited the storied Greensboro, N.C.-based mill for its 110th anniversary in 2015. There, they learned that Tellason, the niche “Made in USA” brand they had founded six years prior, was the famous mill’s fourth-largest customer in the entire operation. “And they were proud of it,” Searson said. “We thought we’d be their 40th customer.”
Revered globally for his historic ties to Levi Strauss & Co. and its American Draper X3 selvedge looms, White Oak’s closure after 112 years continues to weigh on the minds of denim heads and entrepreneurs alike.
Despite being a small client, even at No. 4, Searson said the brand did everything it could on a “cultural and business level” to support White Oak. While larger companies “chased the rainbow to profits by going overseas,” he said Tellason was never tempted by cheaper fabrics from Italy, China or Turkey.
“We committed to our raw materials,” he said. “We certainly could have saved money and been maybe more profitable by buying fabrics from somewhere else, but that would have taken away from the ethos of our brand, which is made in USA, cut and sew in San Francisco, all the way. So, my take is, we did our part. We decided to stay with it, stay the course, because it meant something to us on a cultural level. And denim, in our opinion, is a really special product.”
Tellason purchased a year-and-a-half‘s worth of proprietary fabric from White Oak ahead of its closure. The order was the last shipment to leave Greensboro. As the Tellason team unloaded the massive order in Oakland, Calif. Patella traveled to Japan to meet with mills about re-creating the unique fabric. Kaihara Denim delivered.
“The first run of samples they came up with based on what we were doing with White Oak was on point. We couldn’t even really tell the difference between White Oak and Kaihara,” Searson said.
White Space
While high-quality fabrics are available globally, White Oak’s demise left a significant gap in premium U.S.-made denim and disrupted both the production and purpose of many “Made in USA” brands.
Since launching in 2010, Ginew has produced most of its small-batch collections in L.A., Seattle and Portland, Ore. Up until December 2017, the Native American-owned denim brand sourced all its denim from White Oak.
Following the mill’s closure, Ginew transitioned to sourcing premium fabrics from Nihon Menpu Mills in Japan and Vidalia Mills in Louisiana. The latter ceased operations last fall and is now set to be auctioned off in August to resolve outstanding debts.
Dr. Erik Brodt (Ojibwe), co-founder of Ginew, said the focus has always been to source the highest quality, most interesting fabrics. The task has never been easy. While sustainable fibers and technologies has become more accessible, finding high-quality U.S.-made fabric grows more challenging with each passing year.
Ginew
“Manufacturing denim apparel that is made with USA-made denim fabric has become more difficult,” he said. “There are several small mills that make premium denim in the U.S.; however, the cost, quality challenges and limited supply have made it tremendously difficult to source new, premium USA-made denim fabrics.”
While Vidalia, with its promise of value-added fabrics and selvedge denim made on Draper X3 selvedge looms acquired from White Oak, seemed too good to be true for many insiders in the industry, brands like Ginew and Devil-Dog Dungarees were eager to place orders. Brodt said the mill produced “stunning denims” with intricacies and artisanal elements.
Devil-Dog Dungarees incorporated Vidalia Mills denim into its 75th-anniversary jeans, a limited release that Jeff Rosenstock, Devil-Dog Dungarees president, said paid tribute to both the brand’s history and the legacy of American-made denim. “As the only mill producing premium selvedge denim on American soil, Vidalia’s craftsmanship and innovation helped preserve an important part of our industry’s heritage. Vidalia represented a rare commitment to domestic textile production, and its closure is a significant loss for the U.S. denim industry,” he said.
Others were more skeptical of the mill housed in a former Fruit of the Loom facility. To be a fully vertical denim mill with in-house spinning requires a right-sized facility and a knowledgeable workforce at each stage of production, not to mention cash. Pete Roberts, the founder and CEO of Origin USA, said Vidalia lacked it all.
“There’s a lot that goes into each one of those components, into carding and roving, into spinning, into dying, into weaving. And trying to bring back everything all at once with limited cash, using other people’s money in this massive space… it was kind of a pipe dream,” Roberts said.
“It’s unfortunate for brand owners like me and the apparel industry at large in the United States, but hopefully there’s some lessons learned, and hopefully other people can pick up and push the ball a little further,” said Patrick Mate, founder and owner of Patriot Jean Co.
Godmother NYC Inc founder and CEO Christine Rucci helps brands like Patriot Jean Co. build specialized supply chains around their design concept, price and finishing. She had “high hopes” that Vidalia would become a fully vertical supply chain factory for large- and small-scale full package production. “It seems companies would rather shut down than invest in factories here. I have worked with so many of them for over 40 years and there are none left in the Southeast. Or they’ve shifted from jeans to government contracts to keep the lights on and people employed,” she said.
Cost Considerations
Producing jeans domestically offers key advantages—such as speed-to-market, quality control, and the flexibility to adapt designs to shifting demand—but these benefits come at a growing cost, driven by limited manufacturing capacity and tariffs introduced during the Trump administration.
“The single greatest challenge to producing denim apparel domestically is cost,” Brodt said.
Not only has it become more difficult for Ginew to obtain premium fabrics, but the cost of cut-and-sew has increased exponentially since 2017. And the market, while proud of ‘Made in USA’ items, is not willing to pay the necessary end prices for clothing made domestically, he said.
Despite being a small customer, Crawford Denim has provided consistent business to its U.S. factory partners for 12 years, even during the ups and downs of Covid. Founder Susie Shaughnessy chooses to buy deadstock denim and overstock fabrics from L.A. rag houses for her small batch brand. The strategy prevents fabrics from ending up in landfills and helps fill the material void left by the great exodus of U.S. mills.
“The biggest challenge is sourcing denim domestically,” Shaughnessy said. “Fewer mills are producing in the U.S., limiting options and elongating the time it takes to receive yardage. Ordering from North America and overseas suppliers is harder by the day.”
She added that the instability with current tariffs is driving brands and suppliers to increase their pricing because no one knows what costs will be levied against them when suppliers deliver.
Rucci’s greatest hurdle now is tariffs on imported fabrics. A $5-per-yard fabric from China becomes $18-per-yard with duty, tariffs and shipping, she said. On average, a jean requires 1.5 yards, which means it costs $27 for fabric alone. With a general CMT (cut, make, trim) of $35 for a minimum order of 1,000 units, plus $5 for trims and $20 for washes, the jean costs $78 right out of the factory, and that’s not factoring shipping and other logistic fees.
Rucci said only direct-to-consumer brands can work with this costing, and those companies are often challenged by MOQ (minimum order quantity) and price, especially niche startups pursuing domestic manufacturing. Rucci’s solution is to group together small brands and to encourage them to share raw materials when possible. “I can set up a line with one color thread and sew three brands in one place,” she said.
Rucci has embarked on a sourcing journey in the Americas, currently sourcing denim from mills like Cone Denim in Mexico and cutting and sewing in the U.S. Her clients are mostly smaller brands like Raimundo Langlois, MarkWest Denim, Ginger + Dandelion and Corby Holbrook, all of which are making jeans in L.A. for their direct-to-consumer businesses.
Patriot Jean Co.
Courtesy
Patriot Jeans Co. is her only client using 100 percent “Made in USA” components—from buttons to tissue paper—and manufacturing in El Paso, Tex. The men’s brand sources fabric from Mount Vernon in Trion, Ga., the only denim manufacturer in the U.S., and supplier to brands like Imogene + Willie and Origin USA.
Fabrics are not the only issue either. Rucci said most American trim manufacturers want 10,000 to 20,000 for custom trims and they’re not always willing to do smaller quantities even with an upcharge. She must source certain trims outside the U.S. for that reason.
“There are also many suppliers who stock imported fabrics and trims which are U.S.-based, which I consider U.S.-sourced,” she said.
Rucci’s core U.S. suppliers are YKK, A&E Thread, Carr Textiles, Copen United and American Made Knitters. She uses Caroda, a New York City-based factory, for raw denim programs. For bigger volumes with lower retail costs, she works a factory in El Paso for sewing and laundry. For larger volumes, she turns to factories in Mexico. Her network in L.A. includes American Made, Star Fades and Cotton Cloob.
Since the Maquiladora Program in the 1960s, which allowed U.S. companies to set up manufacturing plants in Mexico, and later NAFTA in 1994, Rucci said “Made in Mexico” is widely accepted in the U.S. jeans sphere—though Rucci prefers to use the term “Made in North America.”
“I worked for two years for a large Mexican jeans manufacturer, and they make for all the top American brands, which all had their own staff and offices within the factory,” she said
Blurring Borders
According to the FTC, for a product to be called “Made in USA” it must be “all or virtually all” made in the U.S., meaning the final assembly or processing of the product occurs in the U.S., all significant processing that goes into the product occurs in the U.S., and all or virtually all ingredients or components of the product are made and sourced in the U.S.
If brands can’t produce a garment that meets the strict criteria for a 100 percent “Made in USA” label, should they abandon domestic production altogether? It’s a pressing question for companies and organizations striving to scale and support U.S. manufacturing.
Stephen Lamar, president and CEO of AAFA, said the strict standards for using the unqualified “Made in USA” label—requiring nearly the entire supply chain to be domestic—can discourage U.S. production. Many manufacturers are unwilling to invest in partial domestic operations if they can’t fully meet the criteria, especially since they can’t charge premium prices for products labeled with qualifiers like “Made in USA of imported materials.”
As a result, he said the all-or-nothing nature of the labeling system can undermine its intended purpose of encouraging domestic manufacturing.
In the denim sector, many brands that manufacture in Los Angeles embrace “Made in L.A.” as their signature identity.
Hiroshi Kato opened its fully vertical factory in L.A. in 1991 and debuted its brand in 2013. Cut, sew, wash, and finishing all take place in L.A., where the company recently launched a new water recycling plant and a solar power system. “We aim to recycle 75-85 percent of the water used in processing jeans and return them to the factory. Additionally, more than 90 percent of the electricity used will be self-generated,” said Muneyuki Ishii, founder of Hiroshi Kato.
The brand’s signature 4-way stretch selvedge fabric—used in popular styles like the Pen Slim and Hammer Straight—is sourced from Japan, but Hiroshi Kato remains committed to preserving its strong American roots.
“Jeans were born in the U.S. Throughout the history and evolution of jeans, the value of jeans made in the U.S. has consistently remained significant and will continue to do so in the future,” Ishii said. “Every aspect of our process, from design and manufacturing to marketing, is based in the U.S., incorporating cultural evolutions into our American-made jeans.”
Hiroshi Kato
However, without the factory Ishii said producing jeans in the U.S. would be nearly impossible. “Many factories in L.A. have ceased operations, making business challenging for us. We adapted by redesigning our supply chain and incorporating in-house operations to become fully vertical,” he said.
Despite the growing challenges of U.S. jeans production, commitment can help overcome these obstacles. “Adopting advanced technologies and innovative business models is essential rather than repeating old methods,” he added.
Searson isn’t looking to shake things up anytime soon. By sourcing premium Japanese fabrics at fair prices and crafting garments in San Francisco’s last remaining factory, Tellason maintains a steady approach, honoring tradition while embracing necessary change.
“Now, if the factory we use closes, we’ll have to go somewhere else. That’s life. We’re big boys,” he said. “We can handle it, and we will pivot when needed, just as we did from White Oak to Kaihara. But if the green light is on at our factory in San Francisco, we will continue to make there. If the prices need to go up, we understand that, and we won’t bark about it.”
Demand vs. Supply
Though Rucci applauds brands that want to make “Made in USA” jeans, the industry vet warns of setbacks, adding that the “sad truth” is the industry is lacking in every aspect imaginable, from machinery and garment wet processing to skilled sewers.
A persistent lack of skilled labor, especially in sewing, is one of the industry’s biggest issues, Lamar said. As companies consolidated factories due to labor shortages, they eventually closed facilities. Workers left for better-paying or more appealing jobs in other industries, like automotive or tech. Rebuilding the U.S. workforce would require textile and apparel companies to offer stronger incentives and rethink the image of factory work, especially the perception of spending eight hours a day at a sewing machine.
“As a country, we should not be reliant on other nations for our goods. Apparel can be made quickly, ethically and reasonably priced in the U.S.,” Shaughnessy said.
In her experience working for U.S denim brands both domestically and overseas, Shaughnessy said there’s a need for both, but that it must be recalibrated. Though she’s encouraged by a resurgence of small batch sewers using vintage machines, business has tipped too far to imported consumer goods, impacting a knowledgeable workforce in the U.S. and artisans who view apparel manufacturing as an art form.
“Having designed for larger brands while they still had domestic production, I know they can return to it,” she said. “We need to give consumers high-quality and abundant options to choose from.”
Even as major brands continue to offshore production to reduce costs, smaller companies still face a David-versus-Goliath struggle when trying to access U.S. manufacturers. Rucci said big brands are starting to approach L.A. factories, laundries and dyehouses with 10,000-20,000 units and she fears smaller brands will be dropped due to cost and margins. To make matters worse, she noted that many large companies are turning to U.S. or L.A. manufacturing merely as a temporary marketing tactic, rather than as part of a long-term sourcing strategy.
“I have seen it happen repeatedly,” Rucci said. “It’s also hard on smaller brand owners because they’re often self-financed and don’t have steady monthly jeans production. Most of the factories bring in workers based on volume.”
On top of that, she said ICE raids in L.A. are making it more difficult to secure a workforce. “As many garment workers are immigrants, some workers are fearful to come to work. Just as we are promoting ‘Made in USA,’ the U.S. government is cracking down on the very skilled labor force we need to make here,” she said.
Government Support
As if convincing U.S. consumers to spend more on domestically made products weren’t already difficult—especially in a time of tightened budgets—brands now face an added challenge: the nation’s deteriorating global reputation.
Shaughnessy said overseas customers are turning away from U.S. products, both in protest of the current administration and the costs.
Outside of the U.S., Brodt said the recent trade disputes have resulted in a geopolitical shift away from “Made in USA” with some blocs boycotting American items. “This has definitely been difficult for our business as international order cancellations are far outpacing new domestic orders,” he said.
Compared to other countries, Brodt said federal and state governments can do more to support U.S. textile and garment manufacturing.
“While other countries have subsidized their manufacturing sectors for decades, this sector in the U.S. has fallen behind in capacity, quality and skill. I think it is a critical time to evaluate the role of both federal and state governments in supporting USA manufacturing, to be able to compete at the cost, scale and quality of offshore and nearshore factories,” he said.
The government at all levels can help in a variety of ways. At the state and city level, offering tax incentives in specifically zoned manufacturing areas could be a highly effective strategy. Shaughnessy noted that organizations like SF Made in the Bay Area play a crucial role by helping brands access more affordable manufacturing facilities. She emphasized that investing in local businesses not only supports entrepreneurs but benefits the broader community by keeping spending and economic activity circulating locally.
At the federal level, Shaughnessy emphasized the urgent need to eliminate inconsistent tariffs. “They have been proven historically to be ineffectual and have driven up the everyday consumer’s cost of goods,” she said. “Incentives to larger American brands to offer U.S.-made product will also work, if the companies work at a different profit margin. There are large-scale manufacturers that work with the U.S. military that can accommodate larger orders for these big brands.”
However, without decisive policy changes, Shaughnessy fears the outlook will continue to worsen. She suspects more brands, businesses, and suppliers will fold if government officials fail to acknowledge the impact of President Trump’s tariff policies and their frequent, unpredictable revisions. “It is economically challenging not to know what your duties and tariffs will be day to day,” she said.
Brodt echoed these concerns, warning that small apparel businesses may become the unintended casualties of the current global trade environment. “We anticipate that supply chain disruptions will continue,” he added.
Pearson was even more direct, challenging the assumption that domestic denim manufacturing can be revived through tariffs alone. “You’re not just going to whip up a factory, are you? The idea of bringing denim manufacturing back to America by imposing tariffs—it’s not true. No one will open a factory to make denim again. It’s way too technical,” he said.
Instead, he argued, the policies are actively undermining companies committed to U.S. production. “Why punish us for buying from Japan? I can understand if there was a solid mill, but we would have never gone to Japan because we like the USA story. It doesn’t exist. This broad stroke of tariffing everything—that’s a mistake,” he said.
This article was published in SJ Denim’s “Made in America” issue. Click here to read more.