I spend summers in Maine, where I was born and raised. Even so, every June, as I stare into my Manhattan closet and decide what to pack, I’m seized by the same yearly hope—or yearly delusion. I think, I might wear that cotton dress, or I should really pack those sandals. I won’t, and I shouldn’t. Because I’m often outside in wildly changeable weather—fifty years in Maine have taught me to expect the best and the worst, often in quick succession—I know neither will ever touch my body. But limits can spark creativity. As a result, I’ve developed a summer style built on practicality and foresight, and I’m also deeply attached to it emotionally, because it honors the clothing habits of my childhood. I’m layering my old self over my new one. But I’m also layering literally.
Take one recent late-summer day. Invited to a party on an uninhabited island a mile offshore, I looked out the window, saw morning sunshine and blue skies, and thought HAHAHAHA, then opened the old sea chest where I keep the fashionable multipurpose gear needed to survive a typical summer day on a Maine island.
First, I snapped on an old Speedo, because the ocean eats bathing suits like battery acid, and buying a new one is about as sensible as tying hundreds of dollars around a rock and throwing it into the harbor. (As I pulled the straps over my shoulders, I got a text saying it was hailing on the island.)
Next, I put on a hand-me-down T-shirt from my friend John, whose holes are so perfectly placed that my teen son, a Rick Owens fanatic, regularly calls it accidental genius. Over that, a Helly Hansen long underwear shirt with modernist racing stripes down the sleeves, to add a bit of visual structure. Over that, a ’60s Icelandic sweater with a funnel-shaped boatneck high enough to shield me from the elements, nearly to the chin.
Because the sweater is boxy, I tied a Patagonia hooded Micro Puff jacket around my waist like a cummerbund, ready as an extra layer if needed. Then I pulled on bright-pink-and-blue running tights, and over the tights, a pair of men’s madras Bermuda shorts. This was a summer party, after all.
On my feet, I put wool socks and shin-high white fishing boots. I packed an extra pair of wool socks in case one wasn’t enough.
Finally, I grabbed at random one of two matching foul-weather jackets I inherited from my parents, who in the ’80s thought it best to spend summers sailing north to even colder places, like Cape Breton. The zipper is broken but the Velcro works, and there’s still a safety whistle attached to the hood, to use in case my dinghy—which I planned to row solo to the island—capsized, which it nearly did when the wind whipped up, and I needed a rescue.
In my bag I stashed a ski hat for when it got cold and a baseball cap for when it got sunny, because it would get both, sometimes at once.
After battling half a mile of waves in my dinghy, I arrived at the party. I immediately found myself helping push a bigger boat away from the rocky shore, which meant my boots flooded with ocean water, the insoles now chilly, sopping sponges. I’d have to go barefoot for the rest of the day, which was fine—by the end of summer my feet have toughened up. Still, once they thawed later that night, I’d find deep cuts under my toes that already looked infected. I should have packed rubber clogs, not just extra socks. Every day in Maine is a learning opportunity.
Then another squall blew through—just rain and wind this time, no hail—and I flipped my dinghy over so underprepared people could shelter beneath it. My dinghy counted as part of my outfit, the ultimate foul-weather gear, and I was happy to let others borrow it.
For the rest of the day, the weather alternated between sunny and stormy, and then it was 6 p.m., and it felt more like fall thanIt’s summer, but when it’s this cold, the water feels paradoxically warm and inviting—especially after a few piña coladas—so that’s when we went swimming. Finally, the wind seemed to settle for good, though storm clouds still lingered on the horizon, forcing the sunset to squeeze beneath them, its rays compressed into a vivid, painterly streak. I rowed home through the Technicolor reflection and reached the dock just after nightfall. I forgot a flashlight, which I could have tied around my waist with a rope. Next time I’ll add it to my gear, because my layers keep accumulating in response to the wind, the rain, the waves, and the dark.
In this story: hair, Dre Demry-Sanders; makeup, Homa Safar. Produced by Petty Cash. Visuals Editor: Paige Viti.
Frequently Asked Questions
FAQs Where the Wild Things Are Tactical Fashion in Maines Waters and Woods
1 What is tactical fashion
Clothing and gear built for outdoor usedurable fabrics useful pockets weather resistancestyled so it looks good in everyday life not just in the field
2 Why is tactical fashion a good fit for Maine
Maines weather swings fastwet coast cold mornings buggy woods Rugged layerable gear handles that range while still looking sharp in town
3 What does heads to the waterand the woods mean
It refers to gear that works for both coastal and inland activitieskayaking fishing and sailing on the water hiking hunting and camping in the woods
4 Im new to this What should I buy first
Start with a waterproof shell quickdry pants and sturdy boots Add layers as you goyou dont need everything at once
5 What fabrics work best in Maine
Wool and fleece for warmth synthetics that dry fast and waxed cotton or treated nylon for water resistance Avoid plain cotton in wet or cold conditions
6 How do I dress for a wet cold day on the water
Wear a waterproof shell over insulating layers quickdry pants and nonslip footwear Skip cotton entirelyit stays wet and saps heat
7 Whats the difference between waterproof and waterresistant
Waterproof blocks water completely Waterresistant sheds light rain but soaks through in a downpour
8 How should I layer for a cold morning that warms up by noon
Use three layers a moisturewicking base an insulating midlayer and a shell you can take off Peel layers as it warms
9 What are the most common mistakes beginners make
Overbuying gear wearing cotton skipping rain protection and choosing looks over function
10 How do I keep gear from getting soaked in a canoe or kayak
Use dry bags for essentials and wear quickdry clothing A waterproof shell and sealed footwear make a big difference
11 What should I look for in tactical pants for the woods
Durable stretchy fabric reinforced