This is, easily, the most beautiful holster I’ve ever seen. It’s the most beautiful holster you can buy. And if there’s anything more American than cramming a 1911 into a holster made in America from American rawhide with a full-color American flag and the preamble to America’s Constitution carved into the side of it, I’ve yet to experience it.
And I’ve experienced quite a lot of American things.
Agatha Christie was the instigator. More specifically, it was the TV adaptation of Triangle at Rhodes, a Hercule Poirot mystery that combined the aspirational attractions of leisure on the Mediterranean, intrigue under parasols, and murder in evening dress. The center of the titular love triangle, when exhausted from lounging too long under hats too enormous, asks the waiter or admirer at hand to be a lamb and fetch her a pink gin. One night, her devoted husband waltzes across the hotel parquet with said cocktail. She downs it, she gasps, she clutches her bejeweled turban with a begloved hand—and voila, murder most foul.
I wish I could say I liked Alexander Hamilton before it was cool. The truth is that I rode the same wave of resurgent popularity that has now given audiences the most creative, compelling, original telling of America’s founding in pop culture memory.
I say pop culture, not high culture, since Hamilton, the hip-hop musical that has taken Broadway by storm since opening in July, is at once a masterpiece of musical theater and a highly entertaining, accessible telling of America’s founding.
This is, easily, the most beautiful holster I’ve ever seen. It’s the most beautiful holster you can buy. And if there’s anything more American than cramming a 1911 into a holster made in America from American rawhide with a full-color American flag and the preamble to America’s Constitution carved into the side of it, I’ve yet to experience it.
And I’ve experienced quite a lot of American things. 
