Alexi Horowitz-Ghazi

Avery says that by the 1970s, this rebellious, ironic army surplus style started to grow more and more popular.

Army surplus goes from a way Americans got their basics to this kind of chic subculture.

A new wave of boutiques starts to pop up around the country.

They sell modified, stylized surplus outfits.

And one of these stores would eventually become one of the most recognizable brands in the U.S.,

But one of the business problems Patricia and Mel were facing had to do with their supply.

The U.S.

had ended the draft in 1973, and militaries in Europe were downsizing.

Smaller military budgets and armies meant less and less army surplus to go around.

So eventually, Patricia and Mel decided to sell their business to The Gap, because The Gap offered to help Banana Republic manufacture their own version of the styles that had made them a success.

Over the next decade, the Gap turbocharged Banana Republic's growth, and that helped popularize this yuppified, kind of mutant version of army surplus fashion.

And as Avery explains in her podcast, this moment marks a major turning point.

It was the end of an era, both in how the military made its clothing and in how those styles made their way to the rest of us.

That's coming up after the break.

Okay, so the end of the draft spelled the end of the era of army surplus.

Many of the classic military designs lived on, of course, in the fashion lines of places like Banana Republic that had remixed army styles for a yuppie audience.

But Avery says this more direct three-way relationship between the U.S.

military, the world of fashion, and the world of gear is still alive and well.

Patagonia, we should say, is a financial supporter of NPR.

Now, in order to understand how this modern web of military partnerships works, Avery actually visited one of the major conventions where military suppliers display their wares.