Somewhere along the line, the world got it twisted, and suddenly the humble chore coat—a workhorse by design—turned into a damn puffed-up fortress of fabric. These days, it seems like every so-called “chore coat” on the market is a padded monstrosity, fit for Arctic expeditions but useless for the gritty, sweaty business of real work. This thing wasn’t born to be some quilted fortress against the cold; it was meant to keep you steady, mobile, and just warm enough when the air’s crisp but you’ve got work to do.

A true chore coat is as straightforward as a hammer and just as essential. It’s got pockets for your tools, sleeves that guard your arms from all the scrapes and scratches of honest labor, and it’s light enough to breathe. Perfect for fall. Spring too. And it’s not so bulky that you feel like you’re moving through molasses.

If you want the real deal, one coat still stands: Imperfects. Ran by a surfboard shaper—someone who knows a thing or two about utility over flash. This guy gets it. His coat is stripped-down, purpose-built, no frills, and no B.S. It’s the kind of coat that’ll move with you, not against you.

Details here.

I’m a fussy bastard when it comes to beanies. Call it a sickness, call it a quest, but if a hat can’t keep your head from freezing, it’s just a fashion accessory for some Instagram-driven husk of a man who doesn’t know the raw bliss of a warm skull in a winter wind. But then, you give me one of those thick, itchy wads of wool, and I’d rather stick my head in a blender. Somewhere out there, I kept telling myself, there’s a beanie that doesn’t make you sweat like a linebacker and still fights off the godforsaken chill.

Enter the Huckberry beanie. The thing’s a revelation in simplicity. First off, it nails the elusive middle ground in thickness, which is practically an art form. Huckberry skipped the full-wool route and leaned into synthetics, with just a splash of wool—14% to be precise. But damned if it doesn’t stay warm without turning my head into a swamp. Just enough heft to keep the cold at bay but none of that suffocating wool weight that makes you want to tear the thing off and fling it across the room.

Size-wise, it’s a miracle in minimalism. One small fold, and it’s down over the ears, doing its job like a quiet hero. Roll it up a little higher, and it perches right where it should. No flopping around like a sad sock, no creeping up the head like it’s trying to escape. This thing fits.

And here’s the kicker: thirty bucks. For the price of a cheap lunch, you get a beanie that actually works. It’s a rare find, a gem in the oversaturated wasteland of overpriced “outdoor gear” nonsense.

More details here.