I rarely find myself taking a second look at a piece of clothing whose only notable quality is a properly applied shade or hue. The main draw in every piece of compelling apparel is its texture. Does it look sheer? Soft? Stiff? The emotion evoked by a slogan, illustration, or pattern is nearly always superseded or at least altered by apparent textural context. A bad Christmas long sleeve or a knitted “granny’s little cumstain” sweater would elicit vastly different reactions compared to their more conventional cousins.
All of that is to say that texture is the end-all for clothes. It is the medium through which your message is broadcasted. Tones and shapes are transient, texture is forever.
I’m rocking some wide wale corduroy pants, wish herringbone weave was more common.