Scene of the Crime
The night slipped into an oily black without a star to guide, without a streetlight to see if my hair was still looking fabulous. Making my way through the darkness I stumbled across this dead body, stabbed obviously by passion. I was truly alarmed. My immediate thought was probably the same as anyone else’s, “Thank fuck that knife didn’t slice a hole in this brilliant denim jacket circa somewhere between Californian Gold Rush and a Grateful Dead gig. © dp robertson
Vintage worn leather work man shit. If you can ride a bull, you can wear this shirt. Go to Saddle Ranch in LA if you're not sure if you can and get back to us if so.
Made in USA
Size and Fit
No tag but fits like a Medium.