Patagonia Down Sweater Jacket
Two things have dominated my 2021 thus far:
Boredom.
An obsession with technical clothing and outerwear.
The first was expected, given that it’s the dead of winter and I’m cooped up inside my house. The second was unexpected, given my general lack of affinity for the outdoors and for articles of clothing that, ahem, value function over form, let’s say. But being trapped inside has me wishing I could be outside for extended periods, even though I know that if I was outside for extended periods, I would surely wish to be inside.
The next best thing I can do, then, is obsess over the clothing and gear that I would wear, if I were going to go outside for a hike (could happen), or a climb (won’t happen), or camping (definitely won’t happen). Fair warning: This is not a review of the Patagonia Down Sweater Jacket from a qualified person who should be reviewing the Patagonia Down Sweater Jacket. This is a review of the Patagonia Down Sweater Jacket from the perspective of someone who is bored and wants to talk about the Patagonia Down Sweater Jacket.
One piece of outerwear that has never had a place in my wardrobe (until now, obviously) is the puffer jacket (either down or synthetic-filled). As technical/functional pieces, they didn’t fit my Instagram aesthetic, which meant they weren’t an option for me. But now that I’m an imaginary outdoorsman, I see the puffer as a dependable piece of compressible warmth that is basically essential, either as a mid layer on colder days, or an outer layer when conditions are mild and dry. So when the time came to choose my first-ever puffy, I needed something that was well-built, feature-rich, and not super ugly. It needed to work for me both around town and on the occasional adventure.
(Side note: the topic of what actually constitutes a technical piece of clothing is something else entirely, and maybe I’ll get into it in another post.)
After some exhaustive research, I landed on the tried-and-true Patagonia Down Sweater jacket. This jacket, like most puffers, probably wouldn’t play well in an outfit flat lay Instagram post (although the retro-inspired Beech Brown colourway this year is dope). Thankfully, that’s no longer a requirement for getting into my closet. It checks every other box: Construction quality and material choices (such as lofty 800-fill-power goose down) are top-notch, as expected from the brand. It feels like a warm hug every time I throw it on. It’s got the features I need, and nothing I don’t. And subjectively, it’s not super ugly. There’s the obnoxious logo, of course, and a very slight sheen to the face fabric, which I find myself waffling on depending on my mood.
The fit of the jacket, which I’ve always considered the most important factor in any piece of clothing, surprised me. I expected it to be boxy and loose, but it fits closer to the body and feels right at home over a base layer (and there is still enough room for a hoody or sweatshirt underneath if needed). For reference: I’m roughly 5’8” and 140 lbs and a size small fits well. My only gripe is that the upper arms are quite wide. I guess I need to bulk up my biceps to fill them out.
This jacket has become a staple in my outerwear collection, something I never would have thought possible even just a few months ago.
Verdict: Good puffy.
