"Old's Cool came just in time for my birthday. Thank you!"
The Perfect Gift–fits traditionalistas to a tee.
Our exclusive 100% cotton, Made in America OLD’S COOL apparel is clobber you might spy someone like Kendall Jenner wearing while zooming her 1956 Chevy Corvette around town–because no matter how rich you are, you can’t buy character. Or “cool.”
Seriously, this is the best anytime gift for the lovely and ludic ladies and gentlemen in your life, no matter what the occasion: birthday, Thanksgiving, Valentine's Day, graduation, Mother and Father's Day.
What are you waiting for, Christmas?
Our UP-i-tee shirts are not distressed, pre-shrunk, or faked to look like you've worn them forever, because you haven't. If you want your Old's Cool to look old school, you know what you have to do—wear it out into the world and make something of yourself.
Authentic American. Veteran owned.
We believe in this country, and we always try to walk the talk. Not only are we a veteran-owned business, but we do our best to support other local businesses and veterans.
Damn fine American Apparel, proudly Made in the USA–designed in Rhode Island and screen-printed in Lexington, Kentucky. Worn (and loved) worldwide.Quote above:
– Lyman Orton, Owner, The Vermont Country Store
Peruse our beautiful Deluxe Old's Cool Polos:
Discover our delightful Classic Rugby shirts:
Yes it is!
Tough-looking punk on a bike with a big gold chain and his brother riding pillion pulls up onto the sidewalk almost too fast and skids in front of me on lower Thames Street in Newport, blocking my way.
The rest of his Fifth Ward teenage goon bicycle gang buddies come up next to him and surround me. It's getting dark, and my daily 5 o'clock in the afternoon walk now finishes up at twilight, if not actual pitch black. I've seen these truants all over town, riding big wheelies straight down the middle of the street, stopping traffic, provoking, precocious and slightly savage.
I look up at my reliable companion, Orion, and see that he's right there, as bright as life, watching over me.
A moment later the boss recalcitrant zooms in theatrically and skids within inches of my big toe. He's a Byronic blue-eyed boy, with a beautiful bleachy, beachy blonde afro, and a rascally twinkle. He looks me in the eye for a long time, and then down at my OLD'S COOL t-shirt. He reads it, snickers, and then looks back up at me dead in the eye. He shakes his headful of fusilli curls, contemptuously.
"No it isn't."