What’s a Carhartt jacket without the calluses?

“I could sell this for twice what I bought it for. People think this look is cool now,” my dad said. He held up his reliable work jacket: A gray Carhartt with worn elbows and cuffs, smelling of carpet pad and wood stain. I saw his jackets as protection against the brutal physical labor that his now-66-year-old body continues to execute within 1/32nd-of-an-inch of perfection. I saw it as armor, not social capital available for purchase.

I’m the daughter of a third-generation Washington Floorcoverers Union Local 1238 guy. My dad, Bert Mackey, is a self-employed carpenter and deck installer, often operating as a one-man show these days. He apprenticed under his dad, who had worked under his dad — a carpet cleaner and shop owner in Capitol Hill.

Between my dad and grandpa, they’ve installed hundreds of floors across Seattle and beyond — from the Space Needle to Nordstrom family homes and department stores. Our Seattle blue-collar union pride is strong. The Mackey family habitus is characterized by great pride in hard work, and a healthy skepticism of cushy lifestyles and anyone without calluses on their hands.

These days, clothing is often used to signal class and status. It’s hard to walk down the streets of any major city without seeing Carhartt-adorned millennials and Gen Zers, most of whom suspiciously lack calluses on their hands and wood glue on their jeans to complete the look. Paid for, but unearned, social capital adorns their bodies.

In contrast, my dad’s “uniform” is used to protect his body from the wear of his work. Kneepads, job site canopies and of course, his Carhartt jacket are as essential as his power tools. A back injury once left him crawling to his truck, knowing that he could get the job done on his hands and knees once he got there. Protecting his body means protecting his income and our family.

His hands, gnarled and calloused, were often on the receiving end of our jokes, but he’s always quick to remind us, “These hands put you two girls through college.”

Nearly 40 years into this work, his lungs too have accumulated wear. After years of sanding asbestos- and resin-filled floors without protection, he once confronted a shop owner over respirators for the crew. He threatened to go to the union. Having union backing meant receiving protection to extend their working and living years — something I am thankful for.

Three generations of Mackeys didn’t sit around pontificating about structures of power and revolution. They knew their union’s power was only as strong as their collective commitment and action. They leaned into every strike — they withheld the pooled resources of their time and labor by leveraging their social capital among union members, driving around making note of those crossing the picket line. As a result, Local 1238 secured real and lasting change: fair wages, paid overtime, benefits, and standard work hours for all members, regardless of their participation.

Like my dad’s jacket, strong, active union membership bolsters collective power and protects those under its wings. Union bargaining increases available resources, elevates class and status, and ultimately improves health for workers.

Today, 27 U.S. states are right-to-work states. In these states, union dues cannot be required. Such laws are associated with 7.5% lower wages, according to the National Bureau of Economic Research. This undermines unions’ power, disguised by framing the issue as one of “freedom,” successfully convincing many that required membership and wage contribution is theft.

What a shame that workwear is in, while unions are not. The U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics reported the 2022 unionization rate of 10.1%, the lowest on record since 1983 when data collection began. The lowest membership rates were among 16- to 34-year-olds. Weak unions leave wealth-hoarding among employers and those at the top unchecked, at a time when health and income inequities are at their highest. There’s a growing market out there for co-opting the working-class uniform without committing to support the very workers and unions that gave the union-employer brand its legacy, and my family their protection.

I see the people wearing workwear as a fashion choice to often be the same people theorizing about the conditions and value of the “working class,” without ever having lived them, and rarely asking someone with real insight to weigh in. I often see these same folks avoiding eye contact with construction workers, and subtly (or not-so-subtly) implying a hierarchy of professions with laborers at the bottom.

My dad’s uniform of worn Carhartt jackets and jeans, smelling of carpet pad and concrete dust, to me smells like home. He still proudly points out that he could sell his jackets for double what he paid — but he’s too busy wearing them to the job site.