It’s hard to predict the future, but the other day I stared into a crystal ball and saw a vision of my new favorite denim jacket. Okay, so the crystal ball was actually Gap.com, but the jacket—Gap’s heavyweight denim joint—was clear as day. As a veritable facsimile of the iconic Type II trucker made famous by Levi’s, it had all the hallmarks of the original—and not once in my psychic reading did I detect a hint of buyer’s remorse.
For one, Gap’s version is surprisingly true to its name. It’s a jacket, yes, and it’s made out of denim. If either of those features were the surprising part, I wouldn’t be telling you about it. Unlike other denim jackets, though, it’s actually heavy, so much so that its heft genuinely surprised me, a denim jacket enthusiast of the highest order.
When I went to Europe last fall, I bought three (3) trucker jackets: a vintage Levi’s version from the ‘70s; an archival riff from Helmut Lang; and a Japanese selvedge Type II from the repro masters at Fullcount. Gap’s jacket is a dead ringer for the OG Type II, the kind that might set you back a few thousand bucks if you buy it vintage, which is why blue jeans buffs flock to the Japanese labels that painstakingly reproduce ‘em. Buying one from them will cost you a pretty penny, too—and once you’re eyeing a Type II jacket in that tier, you’re paying for details only selvedge nerds will appreciate.
Or so the conventional thinking goes. Because Gap’s version is about as true to the source material as it gets, down to the telltale front pleats, yoke, waist tabs, and the slubby denim it’s made from. Hang it in a specialty denim store alongside its more artisanal counterparts and I guarantee most folks wouldn’t be able tell the difference.
And where Gap does deviate from the blueprint, it isn’t for shits and giggles: it actually—dare I say it—improves upon the original. By loosening and lengthening the silhouette just the right amount, Gap’s version accommodates the proportions of dudes born in the latter half of the 21st century. Put simply, it fits better—like, way better. (The other subtle improvement? Added hand pockets cleverly placed on the side seams for a flush look that avoids sullying the silhouette’s clean lines.)
That this particular Type II costs $98—and probably a whole lot less if and when it goes on sale—feels a little spooky. I’m no clairvoyant, but your fall is looking unusually inky.
