Carhartts

One night during my first few weeks in Alaska I went to the Teepee (smoky dive) with a man who kept talking about his Carhartts.  

I hadn't heard of Carhartts before but I noticed he kept touching his pants when he talked about them and put two and two together.  The way he was talking was the way women talk about Seven jeans, or True Religion jeans.  Like a brand that's really cool because it's supposed to look really good because it's expensive because the manufacturers put a lot of money into making sure they fit well.

I walked a little behind him after we got out of the car, before we walked into the bar, and checked them out.  They were just like, loose brown denim pants.  I didn't get it.

Over the summer I heard a couple other men talk about Carhartts in the same way.  "I've got my Carhartts on tonight," "Well I was wearing my Carhartts at the time," etc.  And I'd always look at their pants and see that they were not particularly flattering.  Loose denim in brown or dark green or grey.

I slowly came to understand that the value of Carhartts is that they're lined with flannel, so they're really warm.  That's why people in Alaska wear them.  Not because they're flattering.  I also slowly noticed that native Alaskans don't talk about them in the same showy way that seasonal or new Alaskans do.

Which is interesting, I think, which is why I decided to write this post even though it's not a real story.  That because I am from southern California, when I hear people talk about a brand of clothes in a showy way, my assumption is that they're a) expensive, b) flattering.  But in Alaska when men boast of their Carhartts, it's for neither reason.  Carhartts are cool because they signify sourdoughness.  Sourdoughdome.  Sourdoughity.  They signify that you're a real Alaskan.  Which has to do with warmth, not money or fit.