At some point Chicago decides it owns a piece of you. Not loudly. Not with a speech. It just starts showing up: in the way you compare every other pizza to the one you had in Wicker Park, in how you still check the Bears score even though you moved to another time zone, in the fact that you can hear a house music set anywhere in the world and immediately know where it came from.

Strange Allies leaned into that feeling and made it a graphic.

The design on the chest is Chicago spelled out in torn letters from different magazines and papers, each one a different shape and scale, assembled like someone made a demand and meant it. The six-pointed star from the Chicago flag closes the word out like a period that hits harder than it needs to. It is chaotic in the right way. It looks like the city looked when it was making you into a person who would miss it forever.

The hoodie is midweight and regular fit, which means it moves well from a Cubs game at Wrigley into whatever comes after. Layer it under a shell for a November walk through Millennium Park when the Bean is doing something dramatic with the light. The crewneck sits equally well under a cap for a Pitchfork Music Festival afternoon in Union Park when the lineup is stacked and you are exactly where you are supposed to be.

Loyola kids, DePaul transfers, South Siders who grew up on White Sox games at Guaranteed Rate: this is the Chicago hoodie that does not look like it came from a souvenir stand. It looks like something the city commissioned itself.

The ransom note format has a history in punk, in zine culture, in the kind of DIY energy that has always lived in neighborhoods like Logan Square and Bridgeport. This graphic borrows from all of that and points it directly at the 312. Wear it anywhere. The city will find out.