You won’t find Kellyn Wilson skiing park in tall tees that hang to her knees anymore. But there was a time that you could.
“I was trying to be just as cool as everyone else, but not too much cooler,” the Telluride-based professional skier said. Now you’ll find her in wool coats and headscarves, denim-heavy ensembles, sharp-toed shoes with clip-on bows. In short: the woman has style. It’s something that both the ski industry and over 20,000 followers on Instagram have taken note of — including Hadley Hammer, herself a renowned freeskier, mountaineer and North Face athlete.
Together, Wilson and Hammer write Togs, a Substack newsletter that combines sartorial musings with practical advice for dressing in mountain environments. The name “togs” comes from the UK slang for specific clothing — as in swimming togs, running togs, skiing togs — and is a term that Wilson’s mother used when she was growing up.
Their goal is to widen what Hammer calls “the mountain town uniform,” and look good doing it. They’re not critiquing looks or analyzing trends — though Wilson did say she’d love to report from a fashion week. It’s a weekly dive into the clothing they’ve found works hard and looks good. Some weeks it’s a full breakdown of their favorite ski layers depending on the weather. Other times it’s an ode to a solid wool coat or a pair of clogs.

The idea isn’t to guffaw at the skier who refuses to surrender their 1980s Gore-Tex jacket duct-taped within an inch of its life. If your top three most worn shirts are a flannel, another flannel and a third flannel, that’s fine, too.
“We’re not trying to make people wear crazier things or change what makes them happy,” Wilson said. “It’s more for the people who have these interests already, that want to express themselves through style and fashion. A lot of (skiers) live in small towns or homogeneous environments in one way or another. So (Togs) is just permission, or inspiration, to branch out.”
It’s also permission for those that the “mountain uniform” doesn’t work for — or doesn’t exist for. Like the feminine skier who wants her clothes to work as hard as the men’s, or the plus-size skier who loves big, bold patterns.
“When you think about it, we don’t all dress the same in normal life. I think having that freedom to dress however you want is important because that makes access feel less intimidating,” Hammer said. “If you feel like you can’t show up as yourself — and ‘yourself’ is reflected in your personal style — that’s one more barrier that prevents you from going skiing or snowboarding or hiking or whatever it is.”
Find your power outfit
It started as a creeping feeling. A feeling that Hammer noticed when she looked at photos of her early years on skis — first, in clothes borrowed from her brothers; next, a slow narrowing of her style into what she considered acceptable as an adventure athlete.
“There have been so many times in my ski career where I’ve been mistaken for a guy,” Hammer said, referring to the ski industry’s slow embrace of female athletes. “I want to be able to express myself as a woman, as myself, as someone who can jump off a 60-foot cliff but also has a subscription to Vogue.”
Shopping shouldn’t be traumatic, according to Stephanie Carlo, interim chair of fashion design at Rocky Mountain College of Art and Design. Carlo, who grew up in Puerto Rico and taught in Missouri before moving to Colorado, recently went on her first ski trip.
“I was looking at some videos from this plus-sized skier, and she was talking about how hard it is to find clothes that are not boring, that you can just go ski in, that will fit our bodies,” Carlo said.
Carlo’s attempt to shop for a pair of ski pants confirmed the video creator’s complaints.
“Everything was either way too expensive or my size was nowhere to be found,” Carlo said. She ended up buying a pair of plain, black ski pants. “If you’re more like a colorful person, or you just like bright colors, it’s very, very hard to find something that fits.”
Carlo isn’t just talking about finding cool patterns — she’s talking about finding clothes that give the wearer a sense of belonging, something that can be hard to come by in insular mountain towns.

As a North Face athlete, Hammer works closely with the brand’s designers. She has their phone numbers, sends inspiration and feedback, and meets them periodically throughout the year. “A lot of that gear is athlete driven. Where we want a pocket, there is a pocket. It’s a really fun part of the job,” she said.
But there is a limit to how far they can push designs before sales reps refuse to buy them. “What is accepted in the outdoor industry and what sells is this vicious cycle,” Hammer said. “People wear what the brands sell, and the brands sell what people wear.”
Hammer’s favorite jacket to ski in is a long, duster-style jacket that The North Face killed before it could go into production eight years ago. It was too bold, she said, but it’s the upper half of what she calls her “power outfit.” The lower half is a pair of North Face snoga pants, as in, snow-yoga pants. “They really are like a yoga pant shape. Tight, a little flared, and they’re fleece-lined, they’re so comfortable. Every time I wear that outfit, I ski better.”
The sentiment might sound superficial, but shame and embarrassment are powerful conduits. Feeling uncomfortable because you’ve transgressed some unspoken social rule has real physical effects. Think about blushing — a rush of heat, rosy cheeks — a bodily response to a perceived faux pas.
All that to say, there is something to the idea of “look good, feel good,” or in this case, “look good, ski better.” And Hadley Hammer skis better in snoga pants and an 8-year-old North Face jacket that never went into production.
Fashion goes outside
The Togs newsletter lands at a time when “GORP-core” — a fashion trend named after generic trail mix, good ol’ raisins and peanuts — is cooling off, and overall spending on outdoor gear and apparel is been steadily declining.
But within those big picture numbers are a couple of sneaky subnarratives.
The first is that even though outdoor apparel sales were down 3% in 2023, and outdoor specialty retail was down by over 10%, apparel sales in the more casual subcategories, like leggings, jeans and sweatshirts, were up by 0.03%. Casual pants, women’s woven shirts, and men’s active shorts were among the fastest growing subcategories last year, while not a single outerwear subcategory made the top ten.

Meanwhile, as outdoor apparel moves toward the casual consumer, luxury fashion brands are moving toward the outdoor consumer.
The Business of Fashion’s annual trend report noted that consumers’ post-pandemic embrace of healthier lifestyles and record-high participation in outdoor recreation accelerated certain outdoor brands’ widespread appeal. Brands like Salomon, Arc’teryx and The North Face have emerged as more mainstream fashion names, and on StockX — a bidding site for apparel, sneakers and accessories — three of the top five sneaker brands sold were On, Salomon and Asics.
However, it’s not the flashy performance jackets and cargo pants that sell anymore, it’s the label-free pieces made of technical fabrics, marking a shift toward what the report called a “quiet outdoor” style. All of it leading to a kind of ambient outerwear culture: a mountain uniform.
“Our people are out there”
When Wilson and Hammer talk about Togs, they constantly hedge the newsletter against bigger, more important issues in the world.
“Getting dressed in the morning is not the most important thing …” Hammer said.
“There are bigger issues than what to wear …” Wilson said.
“Fashion is not saving the world …” Hammer said.
It’s true. Of course there are bigger issues than what shirt to wear. But for some people, picking out a shirt that they feel confident in determines how they show up the rest of the day. And when tackling any major problems — whether that’s climate change or doing your taxes, Wilson said — confidence is important. Especially when you’re lining up for a 60-foot cliff drop.
“If Togs helps one person just like be very true to themselves and find their people — ’cause maybe all our people are out there and they’re just stuck wearing the uniform — then that would be so meaningful,” Wilson said. “Plus, it’s fun to talk about clothes.”

