Since they are handmade, remember that no two shirts will look exactly the same.I want you to be able to wear this shirt with pride. There is still plenty of cowboy culture to be found in Laramie (there are not one, but two bars called The Cowboy), but Wyoming's isolated, leave-me-be attitude finds a happy balance with the Laramigos who just want to live life and do their own thing up there in the mountains. Each shirt is tie dyed and printed by hand (with love). Over time, a thriving hippie culture has developed: Laramie's best restaurant is a funky vegetarian spot, Sweet Melissa, and it's home to quite possibly the greatest secondhand clothing store in America, the fabulously named NU2U. People arrive for the university, but fall in love with Laramie's beautiful surroundings, happenin' music scene, and slow pace that eschews the American rat race. Home of the University of Wyoming-the state's only four-year college-the town of 30,000 sits on a high mountain plain 7,200ft above sea level, and is home to a generally bizarre cast of big Western characters. "Laradise," as locals know it, is a strange and surprisingly bohemian oasis in the middle of Cowboy Country. Then commune with nature on the Wallkill Valley Rail Trail or in nearby Minnewaska State Park before admiring the Bigfoot statue outside the colorful New Paltz Hostel, because we believe, man.
#TIE DYE GAY PRIDE SHIRT PLUS#
You can donate your burned-out lighters to an ongoing art project at Kontiki Trading Post, plus check out more art (and whatever else the kids are getting up to) over at SUNY New Paltz.
Keep the eastern philosophy vibes going with beloved Tibetan momos at Pho Tibet or tofu bowls at Krishna Kitchen, then check in on how your past lives are paying off at Karma Road Cafe. With a vinyl record store next to antique and vintage shops and a Himalayan arts gift store, you can be sure you'll find some prayer flags in New Paltz. New Paltz, however, has a more down-to-Mother-Earth quirkiness. Thought we'd go Woodstock, did ya? Well aside from the name, these days, the town where the legendary ‘60s festival actually did not take place is bumping with more weekending Brooklynites than bonafide hippies.