Surf style begins and ends with the board short and a bid to end chafed thighs. Just after World War II, Dale Velzy and his Manhattan Beach pals started surfing — and living — in Navy surplus bell bottoms cut off at the knees. In the fifties, M. Nii, a tailor in Waimea, began making trunks to the specifications of local and visiting surfers, with button flies, lace waistbands, and back pockets to hold board wax. Then the so-called California "beach mothers" — Mrs. Reed in Newport Beach and Nancy Katin in Surfside — stepped in, stitching dozens of pairs of functional trunks out of boat canvas for beach kids.
Four decades later, it seems you can't swing a board by the leash without hitting a sunburned commodities trader and his son wearing matching neon baggies, flip-flops, and rash guards. Surfing — or at least dressing like a surfer — has become a colossal industry: According to the Surf Industry Manufacturers Association, companies such as Quicksilver, O'Neill, Billabong, Volcom, and even Hollister, the questionable Abercrombie & Fitch spin-off, peddled their goods to the tune of $7.48 billion in 2006.
Enter Patagonia. Though known primarily for giving the world Synchilla and for making durable, unassumingly stylish mountain gear, the company founded in 1972 by wave rider and climber Yvon Chouinard also offers top-notch, eco-friendly surf wear (and surfboards). Patagonia's headquarters, smack in the middle of Ventura's superb point and beach breaks, notably features a "flex-time" policy, which means employees are free to hit the waves with every swell. This institutionally mandated love of the water shows in the expanded spring line: whimsical T-shirts, denim, corduroy, tweed pants. John Rapp leads the design team, which collaborates with local surf heroes the Malloy brothers (Chris, Dan, and Keith). "We're always trying to borrow from the earned experience," Rapp says. "We've kept it pretty traditional and functional." In practice, this translates to Rapp and the Malloys looking to the golden age of surfing — and rummaging through their closets — for inspiration.
Since the true test of any line of surf clothes lies in its board shorts, I'm happy to report that Patagonia comes through with flying colors. For a start, they are all made with button flies rather than Velcro, which wears out quickly and is easily rent asunder by a strong wave. They are also cut sanely, in respectable fabrics, and won't make you feel like an overage gangsta. For hardcore surfers, the highlight would have to be the wetsuits, which, when they were announced, caused a small riot on the Internet. A merino-wool lining makes Patagonia's three-millimeter thick suit as warm as a traditional five-millimeter one, for better flexibility in the water, better credibility on land.
