The pursuit of the perfect hoodie can seem like a never-ending one. Just when you think you’ve found it, you’ll discover it shrank 18mm after washing, or it’s slightly too itchy, or a touch too stiff, or maybe even a little bit too stretchy. The process can seem perpetual. Lesser men have lost their minds in the search for the perfect hoodie.
What would make sense is to leave all this legwork to a manufacturer, after all, it is their job. But time and time again, clothing brands will come very close to creating a near-perfect hoodie, only to change up their formula the very next season.
But what if we told you that one brand found the perfect formula over 30 years ago, and hasn’t altered it since?
Well, that brand is Camber USA and if you went over to their current website you’d probably notice that they’re not all that keen on change…
And unlike most brands, they’ve got good reason not to be. At first glance, Camber might look like your typical workwear outfitter, but once you’ve got under the 12oz, heavyweight fabric of the brand, you’ll soon realise they’re anything but…
Camber’s story starts in 1948 when founder Barry Schwartz’s family opened a fabric manufacturing plant in Pennsylvania to produce women’s coats. The production of these coats would prove to be slow and steady, but certainly not lucrative, until in 1977 a fire swept through the factory, forcing the plant to close its doors.
A year later, Barry, his father, brother and uncle all chipped in to purchase a wholesale distribution company that sold sportswear apparel to Army-Navy-type stores across the North East, pretty soon though Barry found himself searching for something more fulfilling than answering the phone and filing order sheets. His heart was not in distribution, it was firmly in manufacturing.
Barry would continue working at the distribution company until one day in 1981 he caught wind that a popular North Carolina-based apparel brand called Mayo Spruce was set to close. The brand had slowly been gaining attention for its hardwearing cotton products, and part of this crowd was Barry Schwartz.
Being familiar with the works of Mayo Spruce, Barry optimistically put in an offer for the remaining facilities, and fortunately it was accepted. He was making the step back into manufacturing, but before he could put his foot down a few changes had to be made…
The first of which was a new name – he settled on Camber, a word that references the apex at the highest point of an arch, boldly stating that the quality of their products was to be above all their competitors. With his new name Barry embarked on his quest for an unparalleled jersey product and began altering the Mayo Spruce material in order to produce a weightier sweatshirt. He was then forced to raise the wholesale price by $3, pushing it to the lavish cost of $12.
In an interview with GQ, Barry justified the price increase by stating “I wanted to make the best, heaviest sweatshirt. Make it better than Mayo Spruce, and people will appreciate it more.” As it turns out this wouldn’t be the case, not for the first year anyway…
In the first year Camber made 10 dozen sales, and nothing more. People saw the price, and not much else. As far as they were concerned in what world could a sweatshirt be 25% better than the current market favourite?
Barry was deflated, but not disheartened – he knew that if he could get the product in front of the customer they’d have no choice but to give it a proper look. After encountering a distributor during the first-ever run of Camber products, Barry managed to strike a deal to work alongside them, allowing him to physically meet potential buyers in person.
When he did, he’d start giving his spiel about the sweatshirts being made in Philadelphia but before he could even begin talking about his product’s history the buyers would be leaping out of their seats to caress the garments. In the same GQ interview, Barry stated “Nine times out of 10 – actually 10- times out of 10 – they would like it enough to say ‘Yes, I could try some.'”
For stockists, trying some quickly turned into permanently stocking and selling out of Camber products. It was a testament to Barry’s pursuit of quality, his mantra of ‘Make it better and people will appreciate it more’ was becoming true.
Camber rapidly increased production, adding a whole variety of colours to choose from in their thermal-lined zip-up hooded sweatshirt, as well as big and tall sizes to fit all manner of customers. It didn’t matter if you were a bricklayer, athlete, or cotton connoisseur, Camber was the name you wanted on your hoodie’s tag.
Barry had taken the product of Mayo Spruce and put a firecracker up its high gsm backside, so it seemed only logical to do the same with the product of their competitors. Camber began producing athletic sweatshirts in the style of Champion and Russell Athletic’s and unsurprisingly, they far exceeded them. Both in quality and demand.
Whilst Camber looked towards other brands, other brands were looking at them. A representative from Carhartt said that he could not confirm or deny whether Camber’s designs were the inspiration for their thermal zip-up sweatshirts.
Camber product was finally getting the recognition it rightly deserved, but in 1994 it was handed what should have been a death certificate, in the form of the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA).
The NAFTA gradually eliminated most tariffs and trade barriers on products passing between the U.S.A., Canada and Mexico. Almost overnight it became incredibly cheap to import products made in areas of Mexico where wages were significantly lower.
Almost all garment manufacturers shifted production to these cheap labour areas, and as a result, could substantially discount the cost of their products. But Barry and Camber weren’t having it. They were happy in Pennsylvania and weren’t going to let the most controversial American trade agreement of the 20th century change that.
After NAFTA, no one bought Camber by accident. Everyone buying their product knew exactly what it was – the highest quality jersey products that were still manufactured in the U.S.A. and still lasted a lifetime. Maintaining their production in the land of the free garnered Camber a small cult following of fabric aficionados, but in the mid-’90s the brand was set to reach unprecedented shores, quite literally.
Their resistance to shift production from the U.S.A. captured the attention of the biggest fabric aficionados of all – Japanese retail buyers, who have long had an infatuation with the golden era of American production. Camber became something of a legend on Tokyo’s streets, and by the early 2000s brands like WTAPS and A Bathing Ape were printing their designs on Camber sweatshirts.
NAFTA should have initialized a decline in demand for Camber, but instead, it catalysed it. Made-in-USA products were getting increasingly harder to come by, and therefore more sought after. People with an interest in clothing have always wanted things that others can’t easily get, and Camber was exactly that.
Fast forward twenty years, and very little has changed about Camber, except for one glaring thing, Barry Schwartz is no longer there. He sadly passed away at the age of 76 in July of 2023. There’s no doubt that his influence shaped the company that he lived and breathed, and we’re hoping his legacy lives on for as long as possible, and for the minute it seems like it is…
Camber still produces in Pennsylvania. They still only do wholesale. Their product is still the very best. And no matter what you say you’ll pay them, your new order is still going to the very bottom of his very large pile.
Fortunately, SEVEN STORE got their order in about two years ago, so they’ve just received a fresh batch of the finest hoodies, sweatshirts, tees and joggers known to man.
