Is Women’s Ski Apparel Finally Getting Good?

The "Shrink It and Pink It" Fallacy

So goes the rote phrase that sums up the established design mindset behind so much of women's outdoor apparel, and the ski industry is by no means exempt from its context. Women were uniformly considered beginners, so why make expert-grade gear for them?

The inequality left hard-charging female skiers with little to no options. Women’s skis and boots were soft and entry-level, and simply buying men's gear didn't always work because men's skis were too long and the flex was wrong. In outerwear, fit wasn't given much consideration as patterns were translated from men’s designs without changing the cut for different body shapes—waists were too big, hips too tight, shoulders too broad, sleeves too long. Even today, many women’s jackets are still too long and too flared, especially in larger sizes.

In 1986, Michigan ski racer and women’s ski advocate Jeannie Thoren designed what's believed to be the first women's-specific ski for Blizzard, based on her revolutionary theory that "women are not small men." She adapted gear for women’s unique body shapes, creating different binding placement and adding heel risers. In the early 2000s, K2 launched their Women's Alliance program and the T:Nine ski, named after Title IX, the landmark 1972 civil rights law that prohibits sex-based discrimination in education, including in athletics. The name was a signal that women's equipment should be equal in quality to men's, not just smaller and brightly colored.

Few brands followed K2’s lead though, prompting Coalition Snow to release their first collection of skis designed by women for women in 2015. That same year, Blizzard launched their Women 2 Women initiative. Also in 2015, Outside Magazine's gear editors published an op-ed titled "No More Barbie Gear" that demanded quality gear for women. The writers called for products with the same specs as men's, opposing Thoren’s adaptations.

While there’s certainly something to that—especially when it comes to high-performance outdoor equipment—in the ensuing decade we've seen that maybe that alone isn't the right answer either. Women can rip as hard as men, but they aren't the same.

The Women-Led Brands Changing the Ski Scene

In 2020, Halfdays started catering to a different kind of woman skier. So many women carefully curate their everyday wardrobes, yet that level of style consciousness hasn't been an option with technical pieces—even now, wearing (and designing) trimmer, matching fits and insulated jackets are generally dismissed as a more European mindset. Halfdays' Isabel bibs are the most flattering bibs I’ve ever worn but I still have to steel myself to wear them on the mountain because the baggy-clothed, little boy look is so baked in. Wild Rye is approaching women's ski apparel from the technical side, releasing its first ski collection this winter for the resort and backcountry after years spent changing perceptions of women's mountain biking gear.

Somewhere in between these two form and function brands are Seniq and Peak Performance. Seniq’s entire line is popular for its unique take on skiwear, but the Ice Whip kit was particularly striking for the way it incorporated stylistic features like shoulder pleats and an asymmetric zipper in a performance-focused package that includes a three-layer 25k/20k waterproof membrane. It sold out in two days, so I’m not the only one who noticed.

Peak Performance, a highly technical outerwear brand from Sweden, took a similarly discerning eye to its Trailblazer Capsule. Trailblazer focuses on both hiking and skiing, and the ski line incorporates women-first fit considerations like narrower shoulders and roomier chests with built-in adjustability. It also brought truly unique design elements, like the Trailblazer HIPE 3L Shell's detachable skirt, which provides extra coverage and a totally novel and versatile look for a highly technical ski jacket.

None of these pieces stemmed from men’s designs. Each brand designed for women first and foremost, and that clear intention and execution is the key that's been missing in women’s skiwear all along. “It doesn't have to live in the same family. It doesn't have to be the same design,” Marie Andersson, one of the designers at Peak Performance, explained.

I thought it would be simple to write about all the new, high-performing gear for women that keeps aesthetics in mind, but when I started interviewing founders, I realized that every single one had a different idea of what women skiers wanted. Even with similar, lifelong ski backgrounds, their answers were as varied as the kits I tested.

"Women like to carry a lot of snacks and their phone and we just love pockets, even though the outdoor industry thought we didn't need pockets for about 50 years," Cassie Abel, founder of Wild Rye, told me.

Kiley Mckinnon, co-founder of Halfdays and former Olympics freestyle aerial competitor, has an opposite take. "I always felt like a lot of the time, ski pants especially were always overworked," she said. "There were so many pockets. I never really used any of them. I just felt so bulky and it just felt unnecessary."

The contradictions extended beyond pockets. Peak Performance's research found their target audience wanted more muted colors, leading to the darker, unique color scheme in their Trailblazer ski capsule. Yet Wild Rye is known for bold patterns and colors, and Halfdays takes a similar approach with both approachable and brighter offerings. Even a quick look through the online catalogs of legacy brands shows conflicts—Patagonia's new Powslayer colors appeal to my earthy color preferences but reviews are filled with demands for brighter options (even a demand for a bright pink or berry color, sigh). There’s a safety element to bright skiwear, yes, but I’m confident enough in my ability not to get swallowed up by a tree well to wear the colors I want.

More Than a Single Category

I sat on these conflicting ideas for a while, trying to find the common thread. But in the end, an old quote from Coalition Snow’s Jen Gurecki made me think that there might not be one, and that might be the ultimate point.

“We know that there are some women who may be drawn to this type of aesthetic design, but it’s not representative of all women. And that’s the problem—you can’t put us all in one box. Women are diverse and should have more options available to them,” she explained in an interview with Tahoe Quarterly.

For decades, "women" have been treated as a single category, bound all together by quotation marks, and an afterthought to men's design. The assumption was that all women wanted the same thing; typically, beginner and intermediate level items that the men's team decided to add floral accents to. Finally, the variety of women's wants and needs are being recognized, and that recognition is what makes this moment unique.

Women's ski gear isn't getting good just because some women-founded brands are beginning to consider style and fit in their designs. It's getting good because brands are finally recognizing that women aren't a monolith. Sure, we’ve had plenty of legacy brands to choose from but the products from these companies have always been more or less the same derivative of men’s patterns. We have diverse bodies, diverse preferences, and diverse needs, but these will never be fully recognized as long as the ski industry is populated with primarily male executives.

"The industry tries to pit us against each other," Abel told me, referring to brands like Halfdays and Seniq. "I see those brands as very complimentary. They are serving a different woman from a technical and performance standpoint, and there's 100% a huge market for that woman."

What these women-owned and centered brands understand is that design decisions should be intentional and not simply replication. Halfdays' McKinnon spoke about the intricacies of pocket placement, as in where they look most flattering on a woman's leg, where they're most accessible when moving, and whether they add bulk at the widest point of the hip. They’re considering the most flattering place to cinch the waist and focusing on how technical features can look good. “Just because we care about how we look doesn't mean that we can't also perform,” she explained.

Similarly, when Abel designs jacket pockets, she's thinking about the backcountry skier who needs to carry snacks and layers without adding excess bulk to their chests.

Skiing is one of those sports where women have to do more than men to get the same level of recognition. The "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em" mentality still holds, and that strongly applies to aesthetics and outerwear. It might sound superficial, but it's an intimidating thing to wear poorly-fitting, unattractive outerwear in this extremely male-dominated sport, and that can be a blow on women's confidence.

This isn't about women's gear finally catching up to men's gear. It's about the industry finally understanding that there's no single "women's market" to capture. There are women who will only use ski pants with a drop seat like Trew Gear’s Chariot Bibs, and women who just want a simple side zip. Women who ski 100 days a year and need pants with bigger thighs, and women who only ski a few times a year and want a more versatile, three-in-one jacket they can wear off the slopes too. Women who prioritize style and women who prioritize function—and plenty who want both.

"I believe we're growing the pie, you know, rather than taking pieces of the pie away from each other," Abel said. "Just welcoming more women in the outdoors through different ways of spending time in the mountains."

Women's ski gear is finally getting good because instead of asking, "What do women want?," the industry, led by a few intrepid female business owners, is starting to ask, "What do you want?" The more women leading that conversation, the better those answers will get. And the better the gear we all wear will be as a result.