Gear Review: Mountain Hardwear Monkey Man Jacket

Two years ago I began a search for something that didn’t exist.  I wanted a fleece that would meet all of the following criteria:

1. It had to be warm.  No microfleece or powerstretch here.  This thing had to be my excuse for leaving the parka at home for everything short of a full-blown arctic expedition.

2.  It had to make me look like I had just skied Tuckermans’s Ravine backwards.  The Chris Sharmas, Eric Jacksons, Ed Veisteurs, and Bear Grylls of the world don’t wear Reebok or even Columbia.  They wear outdoor-elitist brands with arcane names like Arcteryx, Patagonia, Wild Things, and Marmot.  I wanted something that would fly under the radar for most people, but would shine like a beacon to the outdoor nerds around me and make them say, “he’s one of us.”  Incidentally, this would mask the fact that I lacked anything in the way of real elite outdoor skills.  

3.  It had to be discounted by at least 30%.  I’ve lived almost all of my income-bearing life in a post 9/11 world and as such I have developed a complex about discounts.  I can’t buy without them.  Seriously, what do shopping malls even exist for anymore?  I enter boutiques only to duck my way past the well-lit displays to find the dreary corner where they keep the clearance products.  10% off?  That’s only for the people that don’t care about how they spend their money.  20% off?  Oh please.  That’s the 2012 equivalent of full price.  30% off?  Now I’ll consider it, but I’m going to walk out of here feeling like I got hosed.  At 40% off, I’ll look hard, and debate for a while how likely this product is to show up on Steep&Cheap.com, Woot.com, or Craigslist, and then walk away empty-handed with a determination to wait until it gets discounted just one more time.  You guessed it.  I don’t successfully buy much.

First Impressions:  After having searched all the more trendy outdoor stores, I reluctantly continued my hopeless search in the granddaddy of them all (and I only sort of mean that in a good way), LLBean.  Bean makes good stuff, but because there’s even a possibility that a 4-wheeler riding, blaze-orange wearing, “sportsman” might wear their products, I usually turn the other way (remember, criterion #2).  Anyone who tells you that climbers, kayakers, hikers, cyclists, runners, or inverted-hippie-slackliners aren’t brand-name shoppers is lying.  We’re worse than 13-year-old girls.  I wouldn’t be surprised if REI stores have little gun turrets firing climbers-chalk scents in the same way that Abercrombie stores squirt that repulsive perfume to draw teenagers into their doorway.  

As I blindly passed a half a dozen nylon-laden mannequins and a decorative canoe or two, I zeroed in on the clearance rack.  This is the clearance rack in the outlet store mind you, because I wouldn’t even consider shopping in the real LLBean, which I am pretty sure is just a retail-themed museum.  As I approached the rack, I felt a glimmer of hope as I noticed a Mountain Hardwear tag poking out from among the piles in the land of misfit toys that is the clearance section of a clearance store.  Mountain Hardwear is a little more mainstream than the truly hard-core brands like Wild Things and Marmot, but that logo is so gritty and…  athleticky looking.

I’m not positive, but I’m pretty sure I had to blow some dust off the tag in order to read it, and there may or may not have been a tumbleweed that blew by me as I sorted through the clothes to see what was there.  

First Depressions:  My hopes were soon dashed, though, as I noticed that the fleece in question was the Mountain Hardwear Monkey Man.  Nothing says, “don’t take me seriously” like a big, fluffy jacket made from the flesh of murdered plush toys.  I cast it aside and worked my way through the remainder of the clearance apparel.  

To my surprise (but to no one else’s) this deserted clearance rack had nothing else on it but piles of 1990’s era apparel designed for use on golf courses, schooners, or tree stands.  In desperation, I turned back to the Monkey Man.  It was my size after all (and yes, it was 40% off).  No one had ventured into this part of the store since the Clinton Administration anyway, so its not like anyone would see me try it on.  

As I slid on the cushy sleeves, it felt like half a dozen angels had just doused me in baby powder, rubbed me down with cloud-sponges, and tucked me under their wings.  The softness was so appealing that it was disorienting.  Was there a mirror anywhere in the Land of Misfit Toys?  No.  And I didn’t care.  This was the one.

“Yes ma’am.  I’ll just wear it out.  Thank you.”  

The Long Term Relationship:  Since that day, I’ve basically taken the jacket off for washing purposes only.  It was an impulse-buy of sorts, but in retrospect, it actually met two-and-a-half of my criteria.  The Monkey Man is incredibly warm, it’s manufactured by an overpriced outdoor elitist brand, and it was about 3 days away from being thrown out for having sat on the clearance rack for so long.  

On Warmth:  I tend to exaggerate from time to time.  The angel thing might have been a bit overboard, I admit.  But friends, let me tell you in all seriousness that this jacket is as comfortable to wear in 65-degree weather as it is in 25-degree weather.  Something about this jacket buys your body just the time it needs to get from your car to the door of your destination.  It breathes, and yet while its not windproof, its sheer thickness (the knap of the “monkey” fabric is about ¾ of an inch thick) seems to hold out the wind.  

On Street Cred/Outright Vanity:  Mountain Hardwear is a pretty credible label among climbers and outdoor types.  But lets face it.  The fleece looks like something you would inflict on a toddler in the same way that you dress them up in sailor suits for photos.  It looks silly.  And I’m telling you it’s worth it.

The thing that makes the Monkey Man work is not actually its fluffiness.  That may be part of it, but it’s actually just a red herring disguising a more simple reason.  The fleece stretches readily in all four directions and therefore never seems the least bit restrictive.  You can reach for your fallen iPod in the car while shifting gears and crossing lanes without that awful scratchy feeling of your neck zipper digging into your chin.  [Editor’s Note:  The Monkey Man Fleece will not protect you in the event of an iPod-induced auto collision]

Having lived in the fleece now for nearly two years, I have only one complaint.  The fluff has matted down on both of my shoulders from repeated wear with backpacks, seatbelts, and the like.  My odd-looking fleece now looks just a bit more odd.  I try to think of it as kind of a rugged hansomeness though – injecting a little grit into this otherwise fru-fru jacket.

Recommended use:  The best use for this jacket is…  everything but picking up girls.  It’s warm, but not too warm.  It’s so soft you can use it as jammies when your Spongebob footies are in the wash.  Its so elastic that you can use it when rolling your kayak or reaching back for that tricky bouldering problem.  

As far as I'm is concerned, this jacket is the best thing that’s ever happened to fleece.  It’s not the most technical, but it is the most comfortable, and it might be the most versatile.  Just remember.  You look like Teddy Ruxpin in this thing, so don’t get overconfident.