I 🤎 Vermont, because the heart here isn't red, it's brown, and that's not an accident. It's maple syrup running down your chin at 7am. It's mud season, the secret fifth season where your driveway becomes a swamp and your boots become a sacrifice to the gods of dirt roads. It's the cows, the flannel, the pint of something dark from a brewery that technically operates out of a barn.
Anybody can love a state with nice weather. It takes a specific kind of psycho to love a place where the leaves are gorgeous for eleven days and then it's winter until May. Brown heart energy: unglamorous, sticky, deeply earned.
Cut from soft, substantial fabric that holds its shape through firewood hauling, leaf peeping traffic, and sitting on a porch judging flatlanders. The print stays sharp wash after wash, and the fit stays comfortable whether you're layering for a frigid morning or wearing it alone during the four warm weeks we get.
