The Parka: A History of Cold, Culture, and Cagoules.

For people who've worn one in the rain and looked cool doing it.

Let’s get this straight: the parka is not just a coat. It’s a statement. It’s culture. It’s rebellion wrapped in khaki with a fur-trimmed hood.

It says, “I don’t care what you think — but I do look f**in' good, don’t I?”

And if that sounds a bit dramatic, then congratulations — you’ve obviously never spent half an hour in the rain waiting for public transport that may or may not exist.

It all started with survival. The Inuits. Clever people who weren’t aiming for catwalks or "understated menswear essentials" when they first stitched caribou skin together and smeared it with fish oil. They just didn’t fancy freezing to death. They needed to face down the Arctic's version of a bad day.

Fast forward a few decades and the Americans pinched the idea in the 1950s. They gave it a fishtail (to keep military backsides dry), and issued it to soldiers during the Korean War. Functional, a bit odd-looking from behind, but tough as nails. They called it the M-51 Fishtail Parka...and it quickly became standard issue.

Cue the Mods of the ‘60s. Sharp suits, Italian scooters, too much amphetamine...and not enough money to pay the dry-cleaner. The Mods needed something to throw over their mohair while bombing down A-roads on a Vespa. Enter the parka — cheap, army surplus, and with enough pockets for whatever you were consuming that night. Suddenly, it wasn’t just a coat. It was a shield. A uniform. A way of saying, “Yes officer, you might think I look ridiculous, but I'm cooler than you'll ever be.”

The ‘90s. Britpop, and stadium gigs in the rain. Liam Gallagher with his arms behind his back at Knebworth — half a million people losing their minds while his jacket stood there, like a frontman of its own. A parka practically stitched into his DNA. 

Music and fashion weren’t separate anymore. They were the same thing.

However, from the ’90s onwards, the parka started swapping its army-surplus cotton for techier fabrics – Gore-Tex, nylon blends, water-resistant shells. What began as heavy kit for damp weather turned into lightweight outerwear you could wear through a downpour without feeling like you’d been dragged through a canal.

And because irony never sleeps, the parka eventually made its way onto the catwalk. Burberry, Balenciaga, Chelsea kids swanning about in coats that cost more than your average terrace house.

All a bit daft, but also inevitable. 

That’s the parka for you — democratic at heart, but not afraid of a little postmodern stunt.

Still, here’s the thing: it endures. Every winter it comes back out. On the high street, at the match, outside the pub. It’s armour. Put one on and suddenly you’re ten feet tall, ready to take on the world — or at least the drizzle.

And maybe that’s why we still love it. Because whether you’re a Mod or just someone with a cold morning walk to the train station, the parka has always been more than fabric and stitching. 

It’s intent. It’s independence. It’s a refusal to shiver quietly in the corner.

Which brings us here, today. Us starting our own take on that long, rebellious lineage. Minimalist, yes. Clean lines, subtle details yes — but still a nod to the streets, the scooters, the stadiums.

Have a look at our limited edition parkas and see for yourself.

Don’t think of it as shopping. Think of it as joining the tribe.

Shoreditch & Hale x