Day 64: Today's Pick — Patagonia Baggies (5-inch)

I want to write a small love letter to a piece of clothing I would not, ten years ago, have predicted I'd own.

The Patagonia Baggies are a pair of short, lightweight nylon shorts. They were originally introduced, more or less, in 1982. They were made for surfers, swimmers, and the kind of person who hops in and out of saltwater four times a day and would prefer not to peel a sodden cotton waistband off their hipbone for the eleventh time. The original 5-inch inseam version is what I am here to defend today, because the world is full of arguments about how long shorts should be, and the world, on this one, is wrong.

Five inches. Above the knee. End of.

Here is what makes Baggies, the platonic Baggies, the kind of garment that earns a 1500-word review on a site about quirky picks. The shell is a 100% recycled nylon ripstop, water-repellent without being clammy, and the lining is a small mesh brief that doubles as a swim short. The waistband is elastic with a small drawstring. The whole thing weighs roughly nothing — you could ship a pair as a postcard. They have side pockets and a back pocket with a loop. They come in approximately every solid color in the visible spectrum and a number of slightly chaotic prints that, depending on the year, may or may not feature a parrot.

Why are they good?

They dry in twelve minutes. I have timed it. Take a pair into a swimming pool, walk out, lie on a towel for ten minutes, get up and pretend you were never wet. The thirteenth minute is the lie. The twelfth is the truth.

They are short. The 5-inch inseam, at first wear, will feel approximately one inch shorter than what you are used to. By day three you will not notice. By day fifteen you will look at any pair of 9-inch shorts and feel a small, uncharitable judgment. The 5-inch lets your knees breathe. It gives your legs back to you. It is the inseam length our grandfathers wore in 1962 and which we are, slowly, recovering.

They go everywhere. I have worn mine to: the beach (obvious); a black-tie wedding on a beach (less obvious; defensible); a dinner at a slightly fancy restaurant in Florence (with a linen shirt and loafers, and yes I am aware); a hospital ER (long story); a board meeting via Zoom (frame ended at the rib cage). The Baggies are forgiving. They will not be tailored. They will not be appropriate for every situation. But they will be appropriate for more situations than you would think.

They are cheap. $59 retail. They go on sale. You can find them used in any of the great American thrift towns — Bozeman, Burlington, Bend — for under $20. Patagonia, famously, will repair any of their gear for free, basically forever. I have a pair I bought in 2014 that has been mended twice. They are still going.

A few notes for first-time buyers. Size up if you're between sizes; they run slightly small in the elastic. The mesh liner is removable if you want to wear them as bare shorts (some people swear by this; I'm personally pro-liner). Avoid the stretch versions; the original ripstop is the right move. The new Baggies in heavier "Hemp" fabric are nice but, controversially, are not real Baggies. Shorts purists, fight me in the comments.

Final thought. There is a category of clothes that feels like it belongs to the people who make it — the surfers, the climbers, the dirtbag van-life crowd — and that, when you put them on, lets a little bit of that life rub off. Baggies are like that. They are an aspirational artifact priced like a regular one. Buy one pair this summer. By August you will have three.