A Cuban Safari

At the moment I’m writing these words, I already know it’s one of the bestsellers from Poszetka’s spring/summer collection – which makes it the perfect time to take a closer look at the origins of a design that’s clearly struck a chord with so many of you. A design, mind you, whose roots reach further back than just one historical cut – woven through with cultural references, anecdotes, and famous figures.

Let’s start at the beginning – before we dive into historical and cultural context, it’s worth mentioning that the initial impulse for introducing this shirt to our collection came from Paweł, inspired by a vintage shirt he came across years ago and could never quite find again in a similar form. A few sketches, a quick brainstorming session, a prototype...

Naturally, we took the idea all the way – first, because it fit perfectly into our seasonal color palette; second, because in recent years we’ve been leaning more and more into less formal shirts and overshirts. We are also into garments that blur the line between the two – especially when summer calls for pieces that can be worn on their own, without a jacket. Something light, yet stylish enough to stand alone – with interesting details, proper collar, fabric that’s just the right weight – and, crucially, pockets (that one thing one always seem to be missing when taking off the jacket).

The safari shirt is a garment that feels both familiar and unfamiliar. The term might ring a bell, and at first glance it may seem straightforward – but, surprisingly, it’s not something with a clearly defined form, a classic on its own. However, as with much in menswear, this design didn’t just appear out of nowhere – it’s based on time-tested archetypes, deeply rooted in the canon of classic menswear. As I mentioned at the start, it's an amalgamation of several historic styles. And therein lies the fun: tracing its ancestors and piecing together a kind of fashion “family tree” to answer the question – what is the safari shirt, and where did it come from?

And that family tree metaphor isn’t an exaggeration; we could easily go back to grandparents and even great-grandparents of this cut. But for now, let’s focus on its parents, the closest relatives this shirt draws inspiration from.

The more famous of the two is definitely one that shares part of the name with today’s subject - the safari jacket. The cut that – as you might remember – was rediscovered about 15 years ago as one of the first true alternatives to the blazer in classic menswear circles, even before overshirts took hold.

From the historical point of view, more precisely, we could call it the top half of the safari suit – because, as often is the case, the story starts with a complete military uniform. The cut originated during the Second Boer War in South Africa, at the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries - that’s when British soldiers were issued khaki uniforms with jackets and trousers cut from the same fabric, tailored for the harsh climate of the steppe and savannah. Practical, comfortable, and subtly camouflaged – quite a novelty back then, as military uniforms from just a few decades before were often flashy and contrasting.

By the 1930s, civilian safari suits inspired by these uniforms had started appearing – though “civilian” may be generous, since they were worn by aristocrats and celebrities on hunting trips and exotic holidays, rather than everyday life. The real boom came after WWII. Notable fans included Ernest Hemingway (both before and after the war), and by the 1970s, the design had crossed fully into the world of fashion.

But let’s get a bit more technical – because, at its core, this was a jacket, not a shirt. Cut looser, with an open collar that resembled jacket lapels, four pockets, shoulder epaulettes – and often belted at the waist. Though made for hot climates, it was meant to be worn over a shirt (back then, after all, shirts were considered underwear!). What was once a military uniform, turned into casual “suit”.

Eventually, two paths emerged. On one hand, designers began refining the safari jacket into a kind of tropical blazer, worn with odd trousers - famously, Yves Saint Laurent claim to release the first “modern” (and runway-worthy) safari jacket. On the other, for the safari suit applications, the top half started evolving into a lighter, more shirt-like garment (like the one that Charles wore in 1983 for the Uluru/Ayers Rock trip with Lady Di) – still worn untucked, usually, but gradually losing certain elements: the belt, the lower pockets, sometimes even long sleeves.

That’s how the term shacket – a portmanteau of shirt and jacket – came into fashion. And rightly so: the name captures its purpose better than either term alone. Safari design ended up too light to be a jacket, too sturdy to be just a shirt. Often worn as outerwear, but more likely over a T-shirt than a full layered outfit.

Now, we said this shirt has two parents, and it’s time to talk about the one that’s a bit harder to recall – perhaps because it didn’t lend its name to the final product… though the “shirt” part very much comes from it.

I’m talking about the guayabera – sometimes called the Cuban shirt, popular in Mexico, Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic, and of course Cuba. It likely originated sometime in the 19th century (it is noted for the first time between 1850 and 1900, depending on the source), and gained broader popularity in the 1950s. Cubans claim it as their own – in fact, in 2010, it was officially reinstated as a formal piece of national dress – arguing that it’s a local creation that spread to neighboring countries only afterward.

Some believe the concept traces back even further to the Filipino barong shirt, which may have arrived via the important Manila-Acapulco trade route when both ports were under Spanish colonial control. But who knows? What’s clear is that both garments developed into culturally significant, formal shirts for hot climates – where layering wasn’t an option, and the shirt (decorated and/or cut from more noble fabric to be different from the everyday, ordinary shirts) itself had to take on an elevated role in the outfit.

A more down-to-earth theory once again points to military roots – specifically, uniforms worn by Spanish soldiers in Cuba during the colonial era.

There are even more theories about the origin of the name. My personal favorite comes from a Cuban folktale: a farmer’s wife supposedly sewed four large pockets onto his shirt so he could carry guava (guayaba) home from the fields.

What matters most today is that there’s general agreement on what a guayabera is. A white shirt (color is important) made from lightweight, breathable fabric (cotton or linen), featuring four pockets and distinctive vertical pleats running down the front, usually short-sleeved, and often with a flat, open collar (without collar band). Sometimes it has epaulettes, sometimes an ornamental yoke, and in Mexico especially, it’s common to see elaborate embroidery – as it is often chosen as formalwear for grooms.

Famous fans? You guessed it – again, Ernest Hemingway. Also worn by US presidents (Reagan and George W. Bush among them), especially during meetings with Cuban-American communities and official visits to Latin American countries. And yes, even Fidel Castro wore it on occasion – when not dressed in military uniform or an Adidas tracksuit.

Here in Europe, the guayabera in its original form isn’t widely worn – understandably, it might look out of place outside a tropical context – but its influence is still felt in some garments’ details. Especially in those summer-favorite Cuban collars (perfect for summer), straight-cut hems (meant to be worn untucked), and breezy, relaxed fits.

That was quite a history lesson, wasn’t it? We’ve gone far and wide, but we’re back now – knowing the contemporary context.

There’s not much more needed to be said about the shirt that inspired this post – I think we’ve covered the details along the way – but I’ll just add that for us, as enthusiasts (and I speak for the whole Poszetka team!), this is exactly the kind of project that gets us excited behind the scenes. We have a soft spot for pieces that look simple at first glance but carry a rich backstory; bridging two worlds (and two or even three continents, in this case!), grounded in tradition yet totally suited for modern life.

There’s so much you could say about it – and yet, at the end of the day, it’s simply a versatile summer shirt.

One that, unlike either of its ancestors, looks great under a sportcoat.