May 8

May 8 Snow Peak Wanderlust 2.5L Jacket (2018)

Alex Rakestraw

Lifestyle, Shell, Review

Snow Peak 2.5L Wanderlust Jacket (2018)

Type: Shell / Use: Lifestyle / Face: Nylon / Insulation: n/a

Technologies: Dermizax 3D

Price: $480.00

Remember 2014? Man. Simpler times.

Back when the Instagram logo was an actual instant camera, #wanderlust ruled our imaginations. Cheap flights and post-recession malaise led culture. Influencers were guides, not charlatans. Travel wasn’t a luxury – it was a moral imperative.

The Dream of the Aughties was an unblinking acceptance of the phrase “digital nomad.” And it was for this world that Snow Peak first made clothes.

In 2014 – two years before #wanderlust hit fever pitch – the Japanese brand known best for its camp stoves expanded into apparel. While Snow Peak is popularly seen as heritage outdoors fashion, its garments are only as heritage as the iPhone 6. The Wanderlust 2.5L Jacket was made for this world of the mid-sized iPhone. And as a gorgeous, functional, but budget-adjustingly expensive purchase, it is perhaps best kept in it.

Here’s the topline: the Wanderlust 2.5L is a near-perfect jacket. But it’s also fragile. And $500 (John Mulaney voice: five hundred dollars) retail. It’s a wonderful urban travel piece that I’d never take into dense thicket. Why is that? #FollowMe.

First things first, the Wanderlust packs an interesting weatherproof tech build. Everything on the jacket is designed around drapable breathability. A supple nylon outer sits ahead of Toray’s Dermizax tech, providing an impressive 20,000mm of water resistance and a comparatively slight 8000g/m2/24hr. Grams per meters squared per day is an industry measure of how much water vapor a fabric – often a membrane – can let through. The higher the number, the more “breathable” it feels for sweat. Or so the theory goes.

While the Wanderlust’s 8k rating should put it below crinkly conventional hardshells (a standard GORE 3L lets out ~10,000g/m2), a combination of slight ripstop outer and “half-layer” printed inner puts less in front and behind the jacket’s membrane. There are even laser-cut holes in the pockets to keep air moving from inside to out. Combine that with the Wanderlust’s light weight and you get a jacket that doesn’t need to pull through tons of water vapor since you won’t really sweat in it. On paper, the fabrics are not as breathable as the ones used on heavy GORE Pro mountain shells. In practice, they don’t need to be.

Functionally, the lightweight breathability is the real highlight here. There’s the usual array of pockets (two chest, two slash). There’s also some trademark Snow Peak odds and ends (what is that D-ring for?) But that’s not why you #get #Wanderlust. You get it because it’s immersive. Because the real benefit of all that light, drapy 20K weatherproofing is a jacket you’ll forget you’re wearing, even in heavy rains.

I’ve commuted in mine through 45° F rains and felt only the cold of drops hitting. I’ve then dried it off, shoved it into a tote bag, and gone about my day. Compare that to an armor-like waxed cotton jacket or even stiffer rain jackets. Those you have no choice but to wear around, and what’s more, be reminded that you’re wearing them.

To borrow a metaphor: it’s the BareSkin of shells. You just feel alive!

Styling-wise, it’s Snow Peak. It’s sleek. It’s thoughtful. The materials package used makes for a lovely, even silky drape. Details abound, from Kanji-lettered seam tape to branded Velcro cuffs to, again, a single random D-ring. Contrast coated zippers and those lovely pocket pleats are the cherries on top. The Wanderlust is delightful in isolation and wears even better. If you love playful overbuilding and boxy fits, this is your Huckleberry.

In my opinion, this piece – and all of Snow Peak’s inorganic pieces, really – live and die by their color schemes. I love the Wanderlust in its wilder colors – the seaform here, or last season’s golden yellow. It’s here where the brand’s expertise can truly be appreciated. As a proud New Yorker: all black is easy. Choosing the right contrast thread, the right tone-shifted zipper coating, to make bright yellow work? Now that takes talent.

I wear my seafoam green with all manner of colors and patterns. Thanks to the delicate styling and urban profile, it works with everything from black cargos to royal blue short shorts. It’s a grand jacket in the right colors. In the others, it’s $500 for a rain shell you might tear on the subway.

And here’s where the vacation glow ends with the Wanderlust.

Brand halo aside, Snow Peak’s Wanderlust 2.5L is still a wispy ripstop rain shell. Every brand with a mountain running range – Salomon, The North Face, now Patagonia with the superb Storm Racer – will make a similar product that 1) is light and breathable but 2) is designed to deal with abrasion and activity. I have not torn my Wanderlust in almost two years of wear, but yeesh. It just feels fragile.

At twice the price of competitors, Snow Peak’s stellar rain shell is a big – but rationalizable – bite for style guys (and gals!!!) who want a good-looking slicker. But if it tears, that’s all out the window. I don’t take mine out of the city for that reason. And at, again, five hundred U.S. dollars retail, that sort of singular use starts to look less and less justifiable compared to other not $500 shells with more multi-purpose appeal, like Houdini’s BFF.

It’s a big world out there, ya know? What makes the Wanderlust a great city-hopping jacket is exactly what makes it feel so limited once you leave downtown. Not to get too Darth Plagueis, but…

Overall, the Wanderlust is amazing but expensive. Buy it on sale in a color not grayscale and you’ll love it to bits. I love mine. Just… delicately.