Good afternoon! It's been more than a month since my last newsletter, and I apologize for keeping you out of the loop. I'm in my senior year of college and I'm balancing academics and lab work while trying to make the most of this incredible, finite social experience.

But don't think that colorful men's sweaters are going anywhere! Every week, I'm hard at work developing the next product line. Scheduled to be released this winter, the new collection of knit sweaters — our only product from now on — will be exclusively made in colors uncommon to menswear. They are designed specifically to get you compliments.

It's taken a year of reflection and frustrated confusion to clarify the meaning of this company. I am often dissatisfied with the fact that I haven't moved along faster, but the consequence of this pace –– whether it's patience or procrastination –– is that my vision and values have had time to mature.

The mission of this company can be summarized by filling three holes.

The first hole is the lack of color in menswear. Brands can't fill this gap because purchasing patterns indicate men don't really buy colorful clothing, thus reinforcing a negative loop; brands don't promote colorful collections, so men don't wear color; men don't see other men wearing color, so they don't buy it when it's available. We've been robbed of distinctive garments by gender expectations that no longer apply. I hope you are as frustrated by this cycle as I am.

I believe the solution is community. To help men overcome the barrier of otherness, I'm committed to dedicating my entire brand to colorful menswear. It's risky — fewer people want to buy vibrant pieces than neutrals — but at least it's not more of the same.

The second hole is the difference between quality and price in the sweater industry. The Atlantic recently ran a series of articles describing how knit sweater quality has deteriorated over the past 20 years. In sum, consumers today are less likely to pay attention to garment longevity, so both luxury houses and fast fashion brands take advantage of our ignorance by feeding us garments made of plastic that emit carbon in production and can't be recycled. Today, you can easily find a $700 sweater from a boutique made of the same polyester yarn being used to make fast fashion garments.

To fix this hole, I plan to be transparent about my materials and margins. I want this entrepreneurial journey to be as much of a learning experience for you as it is for me, and that means being honest about the reasoning behind my prices and the sources of my materials.

With any luck, word-of-mouth from people like you will help keep prices down by reducing ad spend. Additionally, by eliminating inventory costs with an order-capped production model, I can currently afford to keep prices reasonable while using only high-quality wool.

The last hole I want to close is the deep pit into which we throw our values into when they become inconvenient. There are times when a business really can't be totally altruistic and simultaneously make good things; I'm not sure Nike would exist without Chinese sweatshops (this is not an endorsement of sweatshops, rather a comment on the task of sustaining a 120-billion dollar athletic brand without cheap labor). However, I also think the people saying businesses shouldn't be socially conscious at all — something I have actually been told before — are the same people who throw empty bags of potato chips out the window on road trips.

I have lofty goals for this business. I want it to:

Be exclusively colorful.

Use high quality, sustainable yarns.

Sell at a reasonable price point.

Be made to order.

Produce minimal waste.

Use fair labor.

Some people tell me I can't do all of these things. That may be true, but there are companies that do at least 4-5 at once. Like Paynter, whose jackets I have spoken about on Instagram. What's going to make it possible is support from people who care about the mission, like you. That way, we can spend less on marketing and more on quality. So tell your friends; encourage them to sign up for this newsletter or follow the journey on Instagram.

I tend to think the people I'm selling to — the reader of this article included — are pretty smart. I expect you to have highly attuned "BS" meters. If I stray from the values I've listed above, I hope you call me out for it, because although I am trying my best, it will be difficult to be faithful.

But know this — if the day comes when it is no longer viable for this business to do more good than harm, it's over. Tell Vogue, alert the paparazzi, apologize to the shareholders — doors closed. Until that day, I'm chasing gradual growth towards all of these goals.

The New Design

After one bad sample, the "Matisse," I switched factories and totally reimagined the new design. Instead of putting so much emphasis on the visual pattern, I'm focusing on materials, fit, and color. I think the simpler design might be even more beautiful.

I received pictures of the first draft from my new factory, and yet again, the sample is not what I asked for. That's two factories, two bad samples. Nevertheless, I believe in relationships, and the new factory I'm working with in Nepal is run by a different leadership team in a different country. I feel good about the people running this factory, so one bad sample doesn't bother me. It's just going to take more time than the typical channels in China or Bangladesh.

A New Name

Commodore Scott will no longer be called Commodore Scott. After great consideration, I've decided I don't like how it sounds and I have already settled on a much better name. I can't tell you what it is just yet, but stay tuned.

Finn