In Africa, or occasionally on the burning plains of the Great American West, it can get very hot while hunting on foot. Obviously, the answer here is cotton—or at least, you would think so.
In 1990, in Nairobi, I bought three short-sleeve cotton shirts in safari green, bearing the label St. Austin. They were made in Kenya, but beyond that, I can tell you nothing. I have never found them again, nor anything as good. They were a loose weave that allowed even the slightest breath of wind to pass through, a quality to be treasured when the temperature’s nudging 40 degrees C. (104 F.) They were also soft as silk.
A few years later, Filson got into the safari-wear business with some very expensive cotton shirts. They were offered in two weights; one was heavy and stiff, the other very light, and both were expensive. The heavy ones never got soft, in spite of my best efforts. The lighter one was certainly light. It felt to be about the weight of a plastic trash bag, but unfortunately it was just about as comfortable. The damned cloth was so tightly woven no breeze could pass through. It was a wearable sweat box.
The entire “safari” line disappeared from the Filson catalogue in short order, so apparently I was not alone.
There was a company in South Africa called Tee-Sav which offered good, pure cotton shirts which were a heavier weight—very durable—but soft and breathable. These seemed to disappear from the market after 1994, when the new government was threatening to ban khaki garments as “the uniform of apartheid.” I had a good supply of these, too, but all have pretty much worn out.
I long ago lost count of the companies in the U.S. purporting to offer genuine safari clothes, almost always at eye-watering prices—they assume anyone going to Africa is wealthy so money’s no object—and tailored to look like something out of the Forties. They are unsuitable for anything except maybe sitting and watching reruns of Call Me Bwana.
What I did find, however, a couple of years ago, is a company called Proper Cloth (www.propercloth.com) It’s an on-line outfit that makes shirts to order. Your exact size, pocket(s) or not, cuffs the way you like them, collars of various descriptions, the kind of buttons you want, and exactly the fabric and color you desire. They give you complete instructions for measuring yourself. The shirts are made in Vietnam and shipped to the U.S., usually within two weeks of ordering, each accompanied by a return label to HQ in New York if there is even the slightest thing about them you don’t like.
Price is based on the fabric you choose, and they have a vast range. To be specific, I just bought three more (!) linen shirts from them, at about a hundred bucks apiece, with free shipping because the order was more than $250. Beat that!
And guess what? I have found that linen is the ideal fabric for safari shirts. It’s light, cool, comfortable, breathes like my St. Austin shirts of 30 years ago, and is very durable.
Linen is normally associated with characters in Graham Greene novels, wearing white linen suits and Panama hats, but there’s a reason for that: In the tropics, nothing beats linen. It comes in different weights, and in some really good safari colors: croc-fungus green, hippo-slime brown, hungry-lion tan, and something that would be called feldgrau if it were not politically incorrect. Any of these is eminently suitable for the bush. Or, for shooting Skeet on a hot day.
This is not an ad for Proper Cloth, and I’m not touting for an advertiser. I’m merely recommending something I’ve found that gets you exactly what you need, looking exactly like you want, and fitting to a ’T’, for not much money. I think I’ve got ten of their shirts now, and I love ‘em all.
Our shooting editor has been accused, more than once, of being too picky and too particular about everything from shotguns to shirts to coffee beans. To their disappointment, he does not consider that a criticism.
