66North Tindur Down (2020)

A green one, from the icy one.

66North Tindur Down Jacket (2020)

Type: Parka / Use: Lifestyle / Face: Nylon / Insulation: Down

Technologies: 800-fill white duck down

Ah, the Nordics. Food? Bland. People? Rich.

According to the World Bank, Iceland (the green one) ranks 12th among countries in GDP per capita. That’s one place above the US, the world’s biggest economy. But it’s also two below Norway. What do you get when it’s cold and dark and there’s money to spend? You get nice jackets. You also get a bill.

66North is an Icelandic outdoors brand famous for its arctic parkas. We reviewed one of their shells earlier this year and were impressed by its style and craft. With winter in full swing, it felt as good a time as any to try the brand in proper form.

That form, it turns out, is quite puffy.

66North’s Tindur Down Jacket is a hip-cut unisex down parka packing heat (and a price tag). Its name is borrowed from the Icelandic word for “summit.” Its looks, from mountain parkas since time immemorial. Do quality materials and thoughtful features make it worth the premium over more conventional cousins?

Well, let’s start with the tech.

Like said cousins, there’s more breadth than depth on the Tindur. Most down jackets are essentially nylon sacks stuffed with feathers. This one is no different.

On the face - surprise - is a DWR-coated nylon. A buttery smooth, silk-like nylon, but a bare nylon nonetheless. Behind that nylon is 800-fill down, and a whole lot of it. Our bad math pegs it at over a pound of down on a jacket that weighs 2.5lbs - not the lightest, but about half the heft of a Canada Goose Expedition.

Function-wise, that wee bit of synthetic and big bruising of down put the Tindur in an interesting place. The jacket claims lineage from the box-wall expedition pieces 66North made custom for an Icelandic Everest team. But make no mistake, this is a lifestyle piece first. The lack of membrane, synthetic inserts, or down treatment makes it bad in rain. In snow, however, it is thermobaric.

The Tindur wears overwarm in the expedition tradition. Layering anything more than a t-shirt means sweat until it gets below 30° F - great for cold-weather snack runs, less so for a full to-do list.

Treat it like a spacesuit where your front door is an airlock. I’ve regretted packing a hoodie under it for carrying two grocery bags in 35° F. The silver lining for those who love to layer is that it looks dope worn open, but just to spell it out, that’s the only comfortable way to wear it unless you’re 1) outside and 2) freezing.

A bevy of adjustment points seem to suggest this is a feature, not a bug. At the core this is a very simple jacket: it’s a big ball of heat for the wearer to adjust. And what the Tindur lacks in material profundity, it makes up for in good ‘ol crudeness.

Velcro cuffs, a zip-off hood, and toggles and cinches throughout - including on the interior of the neck - gives one all matter of hatches to batten (or unbattern) depending on the weather. They work nicely in every sense of that word. Features actuate well; when loosened up, the jacket is noticeably cooler. A quick pull of the double zip and two loosened cuffs off is often enough to stop a sweat. When wind whips, it all goes back up just as smoothly.

It may sound boring to spend so long on the hardware, but premium bits that feel remarkably useful are rare. Kudos to the design team on striking a balance - especially one that includes fleece-lined slash pockets (a GOAT coat feature).

Funny enough, one of those adjustment points is an integrated snow skirt, suggesting the Tindur is ski-capable. If you’re the sort that avoids trees (and the ground), this could be a good use for all that warmth. Me personally? I wouldn’t trust the silky smooth nylon, let alone nuclear heat, on long runs. It feels like a good way to beat up an expensive jacket.

On a related note: I’d caution wearing the Tindur with a backpack. While the black nylon patches on the shoulders are there for abrasion resistance, the tenderness of the body made me second guess any pack heavier than a laptop bag. But that’s not the end of the world. Who’s wearing a ruck with a bulky parka, anyways?

Finally, regarding the Tindur as a lifestyle piece, there’s no way around that it sucks in rain. There’s no membrane backer, interior coating, or mapped synthetic fill to boost its water resistance. Just a thin sheet of nylon with DWR. This is, sadly, a hard limit on its usefulness. At $800, it’s hard to justify a jacket that can only do snow when options like the Frozen Range exist.

Unless you really like the looks.

Hey! Let’s talk about styling.

Style-wise, the Tindur wears like your standard South Parka - hem hit at hip, oversized body, hood like a periscope. The jacket’s slinky nylon textile gives it a supple, flowing tactility in motion. Movement is as graceful as it can be for an oversized heater. An elephant ballerina, sure, but a dancer nonetheless.

If the design brief was “premium mountain parka,” it’s a spot-on execution. The Tindur might as well be a North Face Himalayan with soft tailoring. And like any great suit, it’s the details that bring it together.

Small choices like the triple-bar Velcro clasp and visible toggle system on the front of the hood add visual interest. They certainly work, too, but more important for a lifestyle audience, they make the Tindur immediately intriguing, holding the eye in a way more casually adorned puffers will not. Worn with light jeans and New Balances, it could be Vetements, a normcore premise just different enough to be familiar. With black pants and Salomons, you feel like a cyberpunk samurai - kabuto hood and all.

Technical ornaments and dancing down aside, the real highlight for me on the Tindur is its sheer surface. The body color - a gem-tone “Deep River” - feels like a luxury-spun TNF Green. A subtle contrast pinstripe under the River’s surface is both functional and fine. The black/colored nylon body format is an industry trope for utility reasons. Here it feels like 66N made it their own (and worthy of the price tag) through deft choice of materials.

Simple construction with quality execution makes for great things, and there’s a lot to love about the Tindur. But I find myself not wearing it more often for two major reasons.

The first is obvious and Tindur-specific: this thing is super hot for New York. It’d be a lifesaver in Iceland, Toronto, or Berlin. It’s overkill here, let alone Seattle.

The second is more of a comment on hip-cut overstuffed puffys: on tall lanky people, the worn impression is “Truffula tree.”

Your Coatchequer is 6’4”, 180lbs, with broad shoulders. That’s not a #flex - I huff and puff carrying my groceries upstairs just like every other taxpayer. It’s the first brushstroke of a painting that ends in a giant soft structure puff sprouting from my belt-line.

With the Tindur on, anything south of straight-cut pants tends to make me look like a road sign. We’re talking full-on lollipop, Doctor Robotnik drip.

If you’re shorter (or really just less lanky), you’ll rock it without anyone batting an eyelash. If you’re a classic endurance athlete body type, you might seek elsewhere.

The above two are parts of the jacket’s design and should not, let alone cannot, be changed. There are, however, some things I would change.

For one, I’d make the interior snow skirt removable. It’s this jacket’s uvula - good in theory, but it just kinda hangs there (gross!) and you feel like it could’ve been laid out better. It is truly hard to imagine skiing in this jacket due to its soft outer textile and volcanic heat. A simple low-pro zipper would change it from a hindrance to an option.

I’d also add a bit of structure to the shoulders. The jacket is technically unisex, which like, sure (“women should order two sizes down”). For tall skinny dudes - which I’ve heard Iceland also had - it’s a hard silhouette to pull off without looking top heavy. I think more rigidity up top could prop the jacket up just slightly while keeping the agility and handfeel that makes the Tindur feel luxurious.

Overall, the 66North Tindur is a great fashion parka - a luxurious take on the box-wall belay unit, packing a geothermal heat worthy of its home country. 66Norh makes premium gear, and it’s nice to see such a different POV on high-end outdoorswear in a market dominated by the Norrona/Arc’teryx take of sleek GORE everything.

That said, for the Tindur specifically, the price is hard to swallow unless you’re comparing directly to other lux fashion jackets. It’s cheaper than a Goose or a Moncler, but still $200 more than a Marmot Biggie, let alone a TNF Himalayan.

If the Tindur sparks something in you, swing for it. It is a lovely parka on feel alone - and you can all but guarantee you’ll have a brand/color combination not yet seen on your block. If you don’t, however, consider waiting for sale.