One of menswear’s most fascinating phenomena at the moment? Tie-dye. Perhaps it’s the contrast between the ominous weather we’ve been having in London, or perhaps it was Vampire Weekend’s “Sunflower” on repeat too many times, but tie-dye appears to be everywhere (one MR PORTER staffer was spotted in the stuff for three days on the trot last week). Another, within minutes of his arrival at the office early on Monday morning, cheerfully exclaimed: “Thank God, they’ve done tie-dye boxers”.

Of course, it’s entirely probable this ubiquity is an illusion, but a quick survey of colleagues and friends indicated that it is, indeed, a thing. As well as it being heavily favoured on runways in past seasons, it’s appeared on blindingly-bright T-shirts and also been employed more subtly on cashmere sweaters, button-down shirts and fleeces, too. Objectively speaking, tie-dye has no more or less aesthetic merit than concurrent trends: floral prints, fluoro tones or logos, for example. Why then, are we suddenly so obsessed with it?

History would suggest that the resist-dying technique’s popularity peaks in times of political and social turmoil, surfacing during the anti-war movements in the late 1960s and early 1970s and the 1990s, thanks to the appropriation of hippie ideals by the grunge and acid-house genres. Is it a stretch to suggest that our new world disorder is responsible for tie-dye’s resurgence? Probably. History (and fashion) might have a habit of repeating itself, but we can’t blame Mr Donald Trump for this one.

The culpability of the 1990s sartorial revival and its attendant ironic nostalgia cannot be overlooked, for sure, but another explanation for tie-dye’s rise may lie in menswear’s resumed search for authenticity. In the throes of logomania, a small, but vocal faction has rejected the aura of mass-consumerism, and thus production, that accompanies the trend in favour of a return to good, honest craftsmanship. Tie-dye, which evolved from the ancient Japanese art of shibori, by its very nature, is handmade, and still packs as much punch as any logo.

Notably, a number of the proponents of this artisanal attitude reside in Los Angeles. Unlike New York, London or Milan, LA’s fashion chops have often been undermined or overlooked in the past, but a host of underground and mainstream streetwear labels – AMIRI, Noon Goons and 424 to name a few – have been enjoying unprecedented success more recently (not to mention the Twittersphere’s adoration of Mr Jonah Hill, who is a clearly Hollywood’s most ardent tie-dye convert). Is it a coincidence then that these accomplished tie-dye practitioners all hail from the City of Angels, the polestar of all things sartorially carefree and easy, two things tie-dye unequivocally represents? Probably not.