I come by my abiding love for the best outdoor clothing brands honestly, if a little circuitously. For context, I first heard of Arc’teryx in the early 2000s, after moving to Utah. At some point, I noticed a jacket hanging in the garage with a dinosaur fossil splashed across the chest. I was already an outerwear nerd (we exist) so I did a little research, but ultimately thought little of it. After all, I really wanted an Oakley jacket, and Arc’teryx seemed to make the type of gear practical-minded mountain town residents swear by, which made it inherently suspect to younger me.
Back then, you wouldn’t really see that type of outdoors gear below 4,000 feet of elevation, aside from, say, the occasional North Face fleece or Patagonia shorts. How times have changed. Thanks to broader distribution, a deeper understanding of fabric utility, a softening of dress codes, and a philosophical lean toward functionality (people like being dry, for instance), outdoor clothing brands have spelunked their way from Big Sky to city streets around the world. Interest in gorp-adjacent clothing has exploded, and you no longer need to worry about naming your five favorite mountains if you’re wearing a 3L Gore-Tex jacket. We’re in an outdoor clothing boom, and the lines between camping trip and commute are blurrier than ever.
The downside to that boom? In 2025, there are roughly 4,000 brands making elite-level technical gear engineered for the great outdoors—so I drafted a trail map of sorts to make bushwacking through the landscape a little easier. If you’re wondering why a writer who lives in Brooklyn is telling you all of this, your suspicion is valid, but also unwarranted. Like I said up top, I lived in Utah for nine years, spent thousands of days in the mountains, and approximately the same amount of time poring over the gear I needed.
These days, I still manage to escape the city once a week—shoutout my friends with cars, the real heroes of this story—and in between I’m an inveterate walker, climber, and guy who enjoys the kind of weather most folks would consider “bad.” I’ve sampled nearly all of the gear below myself, and anything I haven’t is but a degree removed. The result is a globe-trotting list of brands I trust to make clothing suited for all manner of outdoor adventures, even if, perhaps especially if, those adventures are somewhere you could easily Uber to.
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The Reliable Stalwarts
Sometimes, the establishment sucks—particularly when it squeezes out competition and things get worse as a result. In the case of outdoor apparel, however, the big names have earned their place atop the marquee for decades by outfitting the most daring, exposed athletes in the world with the gear needed to tackle the most dangerous adventures imaginable. In short, everything has to be world class, because the people who need it would move on (quite literally, sometimes) if it weren’t.
If you’re clicking into a list about outdoor brands there’s like a 99.8% chance you already know what Patagonia is, but no list about the genre would be reputable without one of the oldest, most consistent, most well-regarded brands in the entire industry. Their headline items—like Baggies, Retro X’s and Black Hole bags—suck up most of the oxygen, but that doesn’t mean the entire catalog isn’t just as considered or adept in the wilderness, particularly the convertible parkas and the bulletproof flannels.
You might notice that most names on this list have some tentpole products. Example: Even if you’re not familiar with the name Columbia, it’s nearly impossible to be unfamiliar with the work—particularly the PFG line, which has been a favorite among Dads With Hobbies for decades. The price point on their unyielding gear is as good as anything in the category. (And if that wasn’t enough, they’ve also become collaboration wizards in recent years.)
You won’t see as many Mountain Hardwear ads in major cities as you might some other names on this list, but if you go to a mountain town, you’ll see its logo as much as any other—maybe even more. And that’s for two reasons: the price-to-performance ratio is outta control, and it’s some of the most durable, unfussy gear there is.
One of the oldest names on this list and one of the most accomplished, there are no less than 400 good reasons that you’ve seen the Half Dome-inspired logo on top of every mountain on earth and inside every subway car during the winter. And 59 years after its founding, The North Face still pumps out S-Tier technical apparel that also looks good, which really isn’t always a given. (Also, the ‘96 Denali Fleece is once again widely available, and it tangibly improves my mood whenever I wear it.)
If you’re the type of person that likes to conquer the weather, you should get to know the Arc’teryx catalog. Not only are the shells and parkas from the Canadian tech titans water-tight, but the moisture-wicking fare is as advanced as you can find, the footwear absolutely rips and their bags are fantastic. Was the “wearing it in the shower” trend dumb? Objectively, yes, but if these kids stay dry under a showerhead, you definitely will in the wild.
There are a few different eras of Nike ACG—the dedicated outdoors sub-brand that replaced Nike Hiking in 1989—and all of them crush. The vintage stuff has a cult fanbase that’s almost worryingly passionate, the Errolson Hugh-era ACG still looks futuristic 10 years later, and the stuff they’re pumping out at the moment deftly nods to that heritage without being limited by it. In other words, Nike’s trail-worthy goods are as impeccably designed as the stuff built to tackle asphalt.
Possibly the most underrated of all the big hitters, Adidas Terrex is one of those brands that I too would’ve overlooked if it weren’t for a friend of mine gifting me a pair of their TERREX x Parley Free Hikers a few years ago. They’re the best hiking shoes I’ve ever owned, and it’s not particularly close. I’ve since added a second pair to my rotation and, in case you were wondering, the apparel is as technically advanced as the stuff twice its price—which might be the most attractive part of the entire line.
The Shoe Specialists
Let’s start here: rubber-soled shoes are pretty much always built to do very specific things. Sure, a cross-trainer is a nice idea that promises a lot of versatility, but all versatility means in the performance category is that there are shoes that do everything you might want to do in cross-trainers better than a cross-trainer can do it. If you want to get off concrete and onto some unstable terrain more often, you should really have some shoes that were expressly built to do so, and these are the names—both big and small—doing it the best right now. (Honorable mention also to Bedrock Sandals, and its small-but-mighty line-up of clogs and sandals that are honestly tougher than most boots.)
For years, Salomon was a French hard goods titan—think skis and snowboards—with a footwear division boasting diehard fans, but it didn’t have much in the way of crossover or mainstream appeal. Well, those days are over. Now, even those living at sea level have discovered the virtues of what might be the most adept, most technically robust, most comfortable, sneaky-freaky trail shoes on the planet. (And the hard goods are still great, for those wondering.)
Born in the Dolomites and crafted entirely in a little factory in Onè di Fonte, Italy, Diemme hits far harder than its manufacturing footprint would indicate. (And its retro-inspired hikers perform just about as well as any of its gorped-out rivals.) Of particular note are the Roccia Vet Boots and the low-top Grappa Hiker, which look like they could’ve been testing limits on the Matterhorn circa 1930, but still wear like any modern pair.
Tarvas hasn’t been around for very long, but you’d never know it. Founded in Finland and tougher than the coastline that surrounds it, Tarvas has applied a Scandinavian (re: minimalist) design sense to the rugged features and performance details required to tackle the region’s unforgiven landscape—an exercise in both restraint and technicality. So while the hikers might look simple, they’re anything but.
Climbers are wrong about a lot of things (difficulty ratings, how far away something is, what might constitute as a “meal”) but you’d have trouble finding a group with better footwear recommendations, particularly in the approach shoe category. (Approach shoes are lightweight, deeply-treaded shoes designed to get from transport to the climbing spot, aka the crag, which often involves hiking long distances with cargo strapped to your person.) And if you’ve ever spent some time at a crag, you’ll see a lot of La Sportiva shoes.
If you only know Merrell for the Moab—the Mother of All Boots—we can’t really fault you, because the Moab is one of the best long-haul hikers humans have ever made and has zero nits worth picking. But the thing about Merrell is that their catalog doesn’t really let up underneath the Moab, and since adding the TRL1 line, they’re also responsible for some of the freakiest feral footwear All Trails users can find.
The Japanese Obsessives
Plenty of regions have their own take on outdoor gear, always reflective of the environment and all of those takes have their virtues. The stuff that’s been coming out of Japan for the past couple decades, however, is on another level entirely. On balance, it’s as technically advanced as anything in the world, but the creativity and consideration with which that technology is unleashed blows any other concentration out of the water. Or off the exposed face, maybe.
When and wander started popping up stateside, it was like catnip for anyone (me) who liked Japanese clothing and also GORP-adjacent gear. The design choices are intuitive, beautifully executed and endlessly useful, the fabrics are both unexpected and perfectly deployed, and while very few pieces in the and wander catalog are overtly flashy, there’s a subtle wow factor to anything with that little triangle on it.
Nanga has been making other people’s insane outerwear for some time, but now that its flying its own banner, it’s ramped up a notch—and not just the jacket category. Featherweight puffers, knockout nylon shorts, mind-blowing mid-layers and some truly bonkers convertible pieces are the calling card, and virtually all of them are Russian nesting dolls of features and specs.
Walking into a Snow Peak store will make you want to walk to the woods and never come back—the camping gear is more considered than 95% of what you’d find in your home, and looks better than most of it, too. But don’t overlook the apparel, which will make you forget that there was ever a choice to be made between form and function. Of particular note is the Thermal Boa Fleece, which has one of the coolest—and most useful—pocket configurations you’ll ever find.
It’s easy to compare Goldwin to Arc’teryx, because they have a lot of similarities—premier materials, next-level weather defense, impossibly considered details. But it’s not entirely fair to either party, because while Arc attacks the work like it’s in a lab (at least for their mainline), Goldwin treats it as more of a workshop, iterating and experimenting with feature placement and details in ways both big and small. The mid-layer puffers are some of the best in the game, I’ve worn a rain shell for four years and still haven’t gotten wet underneath, and the wind pants are less stifling than plenty of shorts out there.
If you’ve been to a climbing gym recently, you’ve probably seen some Gramiccis. That is because Gramicci makes much-loved climbing pants, and very good (and well-priced) ones at that. The iconic G Pants are belted twill trousers with an elastic waist that wear like chinos, but are cut in a way that allows you to turn yourself into a pretzel, assuming you have that flexibility. Same goes for the Gadget Pant, which is one of the cooler takes on a cargo you can find. (And while the company was founded in the ‘80s by Yosemite climber Mike Gramicci, it’s been operating out of Japan for years.)
In regards to a fashion-meets-function proposition, it’s hard to beat Montbell. Is it the flashiest? Absolutely not, but the low-profile puffers are some of the most IYKYK jackets in existence, and the logo has a knack for showing up on the arms of the most Outside people you’ll come across. And even while it emits an admittedly pricey vibe, you can snag yourself an Everest-worthy puffer south of $400 at full price, which means you can wear it with the kind of reckless abandon intended.
The Indie Cool Kids
It might be hard to imagine now, but there was a time when The North Face was an outdoor supply store on Columbus Ave. in San Francisco; when Patagonia was a follow-up endeavor to Yvon Chouinard’s eponymous hard-goods brand challenging Eddie Bauer; and when Arc’teryx was a regional Canadian brand. That time, for those wondering, was basically from the end of the ‘60s to the end of the ‘80s—or, in other words, the behemoths were just local acts at some point. So get to know these names, because there’s a good chance they’re next up.
You could describe 18 East as a lot of things—design savants with a fabric obsession; the Sultans of Swatch; a menswear brand with a vicious skating habit; a love letter to the coolest eras in the coolest places; maker of my favorite button-down—and not be wrong at all, which is a testament to both its design and application versatility. But as someone who wears shit hard, I learned to love 18 East about 12 feet off the deck with a somewhat dubious pad situation underneath me. Or, more simply, I’ve stress tested the life out of everything I’ve owned from the brand, and it’s yet to fail me.
Everything Earth\Studies makes is theoretically an “experiment,” tested extensively in the field by the two guys behind it. This is why, for instance, you’ll find a massive mesh pocket on the outside of some of their shorts, or why, say, you could’ve snagged a (legitimately useful) “foraging apron”—exactly what it sounds like—if you’d had the foresight to do so before it sold out. But the best part about Earth\Studies is that it all is just a little mystifying without being remotely jarring, kind of like stuff you’d find on the backs of rangers in a state park that operated on dream logic.
The outdoor apparel scene in South Korea is starting to pop, and Cayl, which was founded in 2011 and stands for “Climb As Your Love,” is at the top of the class. At first glance, the product page looks like a greatest hits of all the best brands on this list, full of prime puffers, airtight shells and performance fabrics galore. But upon closer inspection, you’ll start to notice the funky flourishes and righteous riffs and start wondering if you’re looking at the best outdoor brand in the world—which you very well might be.
If you stopped exploring the ROA catalog after making it through hiking shoe selection, you’d be forgiven because it is a lot to take in. The only thing is, you’d also be missing out on some of the sickest outdoor apparel on the market—like Nuna Down Jacket and the Ocular Half Zip—and that would be a bummer. Oh, and if you are indeed on the hunt for some angry-looking tanks to stomp around in this fall, the Katherina and the Andreas would maintain traction on an asteroid.
When I say that the single toughest pair of pants I’ve ever owned come from Ostrya—the Hardy Pant, for those wondering—I cannot overstress how much I mean that, because I’ve treated them like a workbench for three years and there’s barely any degradation. And while it can be risky business to conflate a single product with an entire line, the rest of Ostrya’s lives up to those impossibly lofty expectations, particularly the low-pro Torpid Down Jacket that has a diabolically well-done hood.
If you read the “Surf” in Pilgrim Surf + Supply’s name and assume they’re a surf shop, you wouldn’t be wrong entirely—but you’d also be missing the point, because over the past decade or so, the Brooklyn-based label has turned the idea of eminently wearable, endlessly functional apparel into an artform—big wall-worthy pants, arctic-ready outerwear, pack-friendly shells, and basically anything else you could need for a proper excursion, whether you plan to have the pieces hugging a coastline or chewing up elevation.
The Old-School Revivalists
Not every brand that’s built to go outside needs to look like a sartorial ATV. In fact, a ton of my outdoor MVPs would appear more suited for yard work than they would for a dozen miles of vertical, say, or a particularly gritty kneebar. But don’t let looks deceive you, because not only will these give you as much you’d really ever need in the wild, but they also will work when you’re in decidedly more tame territory (like the backyard of a bar).
William Ellery isn’t the kind of brand you’ll stumble across, per se, but that’s only because it’s not all that easy to find—in a way it’s like the terrain it thrives in. The runs are small and the product list is tight, but both of these things are by design and somewhat necessary: not only is there essentially no waste or deadstock, but the process by which the clothes are made takes time and doesn’t lend itself to scale, only to true quality. Believe me: If you try on just one rugby, you’ll be an absolute fiend.
Alright, so this might be my one stretch, but I also wear something from Manresa in the woods at least once a week, and nothing has so much as hiccuped. That isn’t a rule of mine, either, it’s just that the price-point and construction allows for some recklessness (everything gets better after some tough love and a little dirt), everything they make is easy to move in, and none of it looks dumb once you leave ranger-patrolled territory. TL;DR, workwear done right is the best kind of clothing to wear in the wild, and Manresa makes the right kind.
Big Rock Candy Mountaineering
There are undeniable virtues found in modern performance apparel, and particularly in that which is meant for the outdoors. But it’s also very true that people wore outerwear to climb world-class mountains before any of that existed, and Big Rock Candy Mountaineering is making that kind of gear. If you’re thinking 1-to-1 replicas of the parkas rocked by mid-century alpinists, and the original Standup Pants favored by Yosemite big wall climbers, you would be exactly right, because that’s what they’re doing—hard-to-find classics that have hall-of-fame credentials.
