Growing up, Woolrich was always the default brand if you couldn’t afford Filson or wanted something lightweight for hiking or lakeside recreation.
As a brand, Woolrich pretty much disappeared from view (for me) in the 1990s. Every once in awhile, I’d see a ratty shadow plaid cruiser jacket at a thrift or encounter the troubling, Woolrich for women sportswear line (think, tanks and tees, in shades of lavender) at the local mall.
Now, it sounds like the Woolrich brand has been relaunched, reborn.
For me, these brand relaunches become a cruel, trickle down story. I’ll swoon over the pitch perfect re-do (vintage patterns, top workmanship, perfect styling, beautiful fabrics), but know that I’ll never be able to find, wear or afford a final sample.
The relaunched line will only make it to Brooklyn boutiques or overseas web shops (with a few token samples flown out to Seattle). What might, by haphazard shipping, show up in a contextually appropriate retail space (an outdoor or farming supply store, for example), would be sized for big gents or priced beyond the (reasonable) value of the garment (cosmic brand imbalance: webshop Woolrich costing more than stateside Filson).
I’d love to see newly licensed heritage brands, like Woolrich, come back as a mass market staples (with bonus sizing for the women and petite gents, since I’m dreaming). I see no reason why everyday folks wouldn’t enjoy sporting stylish workwear with a “vintage touch, Italian influence, designed by a Japanese designer” (High Snobiety, 26 July 2008).
Per normal, emails to the Woolrich USA have produced little information regarding the future availability of these licensed items, in Oregon, or petite sizing for women or reed-thin gents.