A review of Vulpine’s Cotton Rain Trousers
James Greig | February 20, 2014
Water in the right places keeps us alive. It’s healthy stuff to have around. Water in the wrong places however, and complaining about the consequences of it being there, is a very British tradition.
Which made testing Vulpine’s Cotton Rain Trousers over the course of the UK’s wettest winter in 250 years almost bearably poetic. I tried to view every day of grey cloud and drizzle (or worse) as an opportunity to put them through their paces, rather than being only good weather for ducks.
Vulpine’s head honcho Nick Hussey is passionate about many things, and riding in the rain is one of them. The company excels at designing clothing for cycling which lets you do so without looking like a motorway construction worker on wheels. And because “the weather” is one of the things that keeps a lot of people from cycling, they deserve special credit for making its (stylish) defeat their mission.
How they look
At first glance, the Rain Trousers seemed a little like chinos to me, perhaps because of the sandy and military green options amongst the colour-ways on the Vulpine website.
But the Rain Trouser is the kind of garment which reveals its secrets only upon wearing, so subtly and suitably are they concealed, and these are most definitely not ‘casual’ trousers. It was only on the second day of wearing mine that I realised the left pocket had a zipped valuables pocket within it, and the right a carabiner for attaching keys.
What about the fit? In the words of their makers: “sufficiently loose to be casual off the bike”. As someone who usually wears slim-fit jeans, I did find them a little more generous than I would have liked. But then again, slim fit jeans aren’t the best for cycling in…
How they feel to ride in
On the bike, the cut is well tailored for movement, with a slightly articulated knee, and the (taped) seams positioned so that you are not sitting on them. The best bit: my legs never got hot in that sticky way they can when wearing heavy waterproofs.
And of course, there are other carefully considered features that are cycling-specific. There’s a button on the right ankle so you can pull the trouser leg in away from your chain, and the inner seams are reflective which makes you more visible if you’re the kind of person who likes to roll up your trousers a wee bit.
Inside the back pocket, which is fastened by a trademark magnetic button, there’s even a small an eyelet which you can attach a bike light too. (I’ll be honest, I didn’t even realise this was there until I read the description on Vulpine’s own website. These are trousers that keep giving…)
Water-proofing, or not
The fabric used by Vulpine, as with their jackets, is the suitably named Epic Cotton, which promises water, wind and stain resistance as well as breathability.
That last part is important, as anyone who has done any exercise in 100% waterproof clothing will know… because you end up sealed in with your own, ahem, body moisture.
As Nick Hussey himself puts it:
There is no ideal fabric that can be both perfectly waterproof and breathable. It’s a two way system. You have a sliding scale between point A, where no rain gets in, and point Z, where no sweat builds up inside. Higher quality fabrics improve the compromise considerably, but let’s be clear, its a compromise.
So what happens when the Rain Trouser gets wet?
Well, the water beads off them. And it works surprisingly well for a material which feels so non-waterproofy (if that wasn’t already a word, it is now).
After prolonged exposure to the rain, water will naturally started to collect along creases in the fabric, which does make your knee susceptible to getting damp before the rest of your leg.
We ran some very scientific tests to show you how this looks in the flesh:
Things to be aware of
Whilst Epic Cotton looks great, it does rustle a little when rubbed. Which means that the Rain Trousers make a very quiet swooshing noise as you walk in them. Not enough so that anyone has ever commented on it whilst I’ve worn them, or with anything like that corrugated cardboard feeling that corduroy trousers give you, but enough for the wearer at least to notice.
My commute to work is only 15 minutes or so, and when riding in light rain, my legs always remained nicely dry. With both trouser legs rolled up a little, a tiny puddle of water would rehouse itself on the studio floor when I got to my destination and unrolled them. Which is probably desirable, because otherwise it would have rehoused itself into my socks.
I do have one quibble — the seat of the trouser, and specifically where it came into contact with the seat of my bike itself — didn’t stay completely dry. I’ve been trying to write this review without using the word arse, but derrière seems overly continental, so I’m left with little choice. So here goes… my arse got a little damp after riding in these trousers in the rain for anything more than twenty minutes. There, I said it. And yes, I do have mudguards on my bike (on the back wheel at least).
But you know what, that’s ok…
Buying a new Vulpine product in its first incarnation is a little like buying a first generation Apple device. You’re an early adopter, getting cutting-edge technology, at a price which some people deem “expensive”.
You know that in a year’s time a new and improved version will go on sale. But you don’t care, because you want the best, the smartest, the newest thing. And these trousers are that thing. There isn’t anything else quite like them: a British-weatherproof trouser which is smart enough to wear through the working day and out the other side again.
They’re not perfect, but they’re not far off. Team the Cotton Rain Trouser up with a Harrington jacket and you have a sharp-looking outfit that’ll see you safely through a spot of inclement bother in style.
The Vulpine Cotton Rain Trouser is available in Sahara, Charcoal, Indigo and Military Green for £140. And there’s a version for women, which I’m not qualified to comment on, other than their existence in a cycling world that still doesn’t cater well for women being a signal of hope.
Posted to Cycle Style
by James Greig
