You know that feeling when the wind has been blowing in the same direction for nine straight days, the horizon is so flat you can watch your dog run away for three days, and the tornado siren goes off during the only nice afternoon of the month? That is the broken heart energy we are bottling here. Kansas is not bad, it is just relentlessly, aggressively Kansas, and sometimes love means admitting the romance died somewhere around mile marker 212 on a highway with no curves in it.
Wear this to the family cookout, to the gas station that doubles as the best barbecue in town, or to a bar full of people who take college basketball way too personally. They will either laugh or fight you. Both count as a conversation.
Soft, broken in from the first wear, and built with stitching that survives laundry day and whatever the weather decides to do next. Roomy enough to hide a plate of burnt ends, durable enough to outlast your lease out there.
