Underwear or clothing? The chic blur of the undershirt

An essential for every day

There are pieces we think we know. That we've seen, worn, and folded a thousand times without really thinking about it. The sleeved undershirt is one of them. Long confined to intimate wear, it's now back in our wardrobes with a new, more confident, freer look. What if it actually carried within it that discreet charm of a garment that doesn't always know whether to show or hide?

A piece born to be forgotten, but never erased

The sleeved undershirt is a bit like the ghost of the men's and women's wardrobe. We slip it under a sweater in winter, we mechanically put it on under a shirt to feel "dressed," we sometimes keep it on to sleep, for comfort or out of habit. It's there, close to the skin, silent, functional. Its mission: to warm, absorb, protect. It's the first layer. The one we don't show, but which makes everything else possible.

And yet, it's a garment in its own right. A garment steeped in history, gestures, and memory. Just think of the ancients: those generations who wore their undershirts like second nature, always clean, often white.

The discreet return of an essential

Today, the fashion world is rediscovering this piece. Not as a simple undergarment, but as a real garment in its own right . What was once called a skin-friendly knit is gradually transforming into a long-sleeved top, a short-sleeved top , sometimes even a city T-shirt — without a logo, without a message, but with a rare allure: that of accuracy .

This is no coincidence. We're living in a time when we're more than ever looking for sincere pieces. Clothes that stay put, that breathe, that have nothing to prove. And the sleeved undershirt, with its dense cotton, ribbed knit, and clean drape, has everything going for it: it's simple, practical, elegant. And above all, it's there for us. On our skin.

Visible or invisible? Both.

What makes it so fascinating today is this vagueness. Is it there to show off? Or to be forgotten? It all depends on the intention. Worn alone, with raw jeans or dress pants, the undershirt becomes a sober but strong, almost graphic piece . Worn under an overshirt, it becomes softer, more anchored. It accompanies the body without ever constraining it.

It's neither trendy nor basic. It's somewhere in between. It's one of those garments that speaks softly but fits perfectly. It's one of those that doesn't shout its style, but instead lets it slip into the details: the texture of the cotton , the well-placed cut at the shoulder, the length that covers without being overwhelming.

Sensation on the skin

What ultimately changes everything is how the undershirt feels. When it's well cut, in a fine yet dense knit, it hugs the body like few other garments can. It warms without making you sweat, it caresses without sticking. You forget it, but in a good way. It becomes a discreet presence, a sort of light cocoon, a tactile refuge.

And that's also what luxury is today: clothes that we wear first and foremost for ourselves . That make us feel good. That accompany us, that support us—without being noticed.

At Les Tricots Marcel, we believe in it

We've always believed that style begins where skin meets fabric . The sleeved undershirt is one of those foundational pieces. The ones we put on reflexively, and keep for the pleasure of it. We knit it in Roanne, in Pima cotton . A ribbed knit, supple but structured , dense but breathable . A carefully designed cut, neither too tight nor loose. And a detail we love: the first name of the person who made it, written on the label.

Bright white, deep black, understated burgundy, or cognac brown... Each color changes the intention a little. But the feeling remains the same: comfort, confidence, simplicity.

And now we show it?

Why not. Showing off your undershirt is a bit like letting a piece of yourself show. Not in the spectacular, but in the essential . It's saying: "I feel good here, in what I'm wearing." And that's perhaps the most beautiful look.