How Patriot Jean Co. Is Stitching Back America

In the pre-dawn chill of northwest Georgia, the looms at Mount Vernon Mills hum with purpose, spinning cotton into bolts of blue denim that carry the weight of a fading American dream. This mill, one of the last of its kind, is the heartbeat of Patriot Jean Co., a veteran-led startup stitching together a revival of U.S. manufacturing. Founded in January 2024 by Patrick Mate, a 42-year-old Army veteran from Tucson, Arizona, the company is bringing premium denim production back to American soil, from seed to seam, in defiance of an industry hollowed out by decades of offshoring.

Mate’s jeans, priced at $114 to $119 and sold direct-to-consumer, are more than apparel—they’re a statement. Sourced from Southeast farms, spun at Mount Vernon, and sewn in El Paso, Texas, every pair supports a supply chain that sustains roughly 100 jobs and fuels a growing "Buy American" movement. In just 20 months, Patriot has expanded to shirts, tees, and caps, tapping a patriotic fervor amplified by recent tariffs on Chinese goods and a hunger for authenticity. As one X user put it last week, “These are the jeans Levi’s used to make—built to last, built here.”

This is the story of how one man’s vision is weaving together farmers, mill workers, and sewers to reclaim a piece of America’s industrial soul—and why it matters in a nation craving economic renewal.

A Veteran’s Vision: From Battlefield to Boardroom

Patrick Mate never planned to be a denim mogul. A former aerospace executive with a decade in the Army, he spent his early career troubleshooting high-stakes projects under pressure. But in 2022, a shopping trip sparked an epiphany. “I was looking for jeans made in the USA,” Mate recalled in a March 2025 interview with Sourcing Journal. “Everything was Bangladesh, Vietnam, China. I thought, ‘This is crazy—we used to lead this industry.’”

That frustration led him to the White Oak Legacy Foundation’s Denim 101 course in Greensboro, North Carolina, where he spent a year mastering the craft. From cotton ginning to selvedge weaving, Mate absorbed the intricacies of an industry gutted by globalization. The numbers were stark: U.S. denim production, once a powerhouse employing tens of thousands, now accounts for just 3% of the global market, down from 50% in the 1980s, per trade data. The North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) and cheap overseas labor had shuttered mills across the South, leaving ghost towns where factories once thrived.

Mate saw opportunity where others saw decline. Armed with a network of veteran entrepreneurs and a $200,000 seed fund from personal savings and early backers, he launched Patriot Jean Co. in Tucson. His goal was simple but audacious: build a brand that’s 100% American-made, from the cotton fields to the final stitch, and sell it directly to consumers who value quality over cost.

The Denim Drought: An Industry on the Brink

To understand Patriot’s mission, you have to grasp the scale of denim’s decline. In the 1970s, brands like Levi’s and Wrangler churned out jeans from mills in Georgia, North Carolina, and South Carolina, employing entire communities. By 2025, only a handful of U.S. facilities remained, with Mount Vernon Mills in Trion—founded in 1845—standing as the last major producer of premium selvedge denim.

The math tells the story. Labor costs in Asia are 5-10 times lower than in the U.S., and global supply chains favor speed over sovereignty. Christine Rucci, a New York-based denim consultant who advised Mate on fit design, has seen the fallout firsthand. “I’ve worked in this industry for 40 years,” she said. “Companies would rather shut down than invest in factories here. The infrastructure’s gone—sewers, patternmakers, even the machines.”

Mate faced this head-on. Early on, he encountered supply chain snarls—COVID-era delays lingered into 2024, slowing cotton deliveries. Skilled labor was another hurdle; El Paso’s sewing plants, while storied, struggled to find workers under 50. Yet Mate leaned on his military training: adapt, improvise, overcome. He built relationships with farmers in Alabama and Georgia, secured yarn from Mount Vernon, and partnered with a family-owned factory in El Paso that shared his vision. “It’s about trust,” he said. “These are people who’ve been doing this for generations.”

From Seed to Seam: Building a 100% American Supply Chain

Patriot’s operation is a masterclass in vertical integration. It starts in the red-dirt fields of the Southeast, where farmers grow long-staple cotton prized for its durability. The cotton is ginned, carded, and spun into yarn at Mount Vernon, where 200 employees keep century-old looms running. The resulting denim—tightly woven, selvedge-edged—ships to El Paso, where 50 sewers cut and stitch two core fits: the “Defender” (athletic) and “Innovator” (tapered). Even the rivets, zippers, and leather patches are U.S.-made, a rarity in an industry reliant on Chinese hardware.

The result? Jeans that retail for $114 to $119—competitive with mid-tier brands like Gap but pricier than mass-market imports. By selling directly online, Patriot avoids retail markups, which can double prices. “Staying D2C lets us control quality and keep it affordable,” Mate explained. “We’re not chasing Amazon’s race to the bottom.”

The supply chain isn’t just a business model—it’s a lifeline. Patriot’s orders support roughly 100 jobs, from farmers to truck drivers to factory hands, in an industry that employs 150,000 nationwide but faces constant pressure from imports. In Trion, where Mount Vernon is the largest employer, every bolt of denim keeps families afloat. In El Paso, sewers like Maria Gonzalez, a 30-year veteran, see Patriot as a rare bright spot. “I thought this work was gone for good,” she told a local reporter. “Now I’m teaching my daughter the trade.”

Riding the “Buy American” Wave

Patriot’s timing couldn’t be better. Recent tariffs on Chinese textiles, enacted in mid-2025, have nudged consumers toward domestic brands. Social media, especially X, has amplified the message. A September 24 post from @PatriotJeanCo declared, “Join us as we lead the revival of American manufacturing!”—prompting hundreds of likes and comments like “Finally, jeans I can trust.” Customers range from blue-collar workers to urban professionals, united by a desire for authenticity. One Ohio hunter posted, “These jeans take a beating and keep going—worth every penny.”

The numbers back the buzz. U.S. manufacturing added 13% more businesses from 2020 to 2024, with apparel leading small-scale growth, per the National Association of Manufacturers. Patriot’s early success—a sold-out limited run of anniversary jeans in June 2025—prompted Mate to expand into unisex tees and trucker caps, all U.S.-made. The move tapped a broader trend: 68% of Americans now prefer domestic products, up from 55% a decade ago, according to a 2025 Pew Research poll.

But it’s not just economics driving demand. Patriot’s story resonates emotionally. Mate, whose military service included deployments to Iraq, frames his work as a mission. “We’re not just selling jeans,” he said. “We’re rebuilding communities, one stitch at a time.” That message hits home in places like Trion, where mill workers like 55-year-old James Carter see Patriot as a nod to their legacy. “My granddaddy worked these looms,” Carter said. “It’s good to know someone still cares.”

Challenges and Critics: Can It Scale?

Not everyone’s sold. Scaling a fully American supply chain is a gamble in an industry built on global efficiencies. Labor costs remain a sticking point—U.S. sewers earn $20-$25 per hour, compared to $2-$4 in Bangladesh. Shipping delays, while easing, still disrupt schedules; a 2024 bottleneck held up Patriot’s first batch for weeks. Critics argue that premium pricing limits mass appeal. “Most shoppers don’t care where their jeans come from,” said retail analyst Laura Simmons of Bain & Co. “They want $40 denim, not $120.”

Mate counters that quality justifies the cost. Patriot’s jeans, with 14-ounce selvedge denim, outlast cheaper alternatives, which often fray within a year. Early reviews bear this out: 85% of customers on Patriot’s site rate the jeans five stars for durability. Still, scaling without compromising the D2C model is tricky. Mate has ruled out big-box retailers but is exploring pop-up shops in cities like Nashville and Austin, where “Made in USA” resonates.

Another challenge is competition. Brands like Left Field NYC and Imogene + Willie also champion American-made denim, though few match Patriot’s fully domestic supply chain. Mate leans on his veteran identity to stand out, partnering with organizations like Wounded Warrior Project for limited-edition designs. “It’s about purpose,” he said. “We’re building something bigger than a brand.”

The Road Ahead: A Blueprint for Revival

Mate’s ambitions are bold but measured. By 2027, he aims to double production, add women’s fits, and launch a veteran apprenticeship program to train the next generation of sewers. He’s also eyeing collaborations with American designers to elevate the brand’s cachet. “We want to be the face of the new American apparel industry,” he told a Tucson business group in August.

The broader context is promising. Federal incentives for domestic manufacturing, including $2 billion in 2025 grants, are spurring investment. Consumer sentiment, fueled by X and platforms like it, continues to drive demand for brands with a story. Patriot’s social media presence—10,000 followers and counting—keeps the conversation alive, with posts showcasing factory visits and farmer profiles.

For now, Mate stays focused on the present. In El Paso, sewers are ramping up for the holiday season, where Patriot expects a 20% sales bump. In Trion, Mount Vernon’s looms churn out denim for a new line of jackets set to debut in 2026. And in Tucson, Mate is already sketching the next chapter. “This isn’t about nostalgia,” he said. “It’s about proving we can still make the best stuff in the world.”

In a nation hungry for stories of resilience, Patriot Jean Co. is threading a needle through the past and future. Visit patriotjeanco.com to explore the line and join the movement.