The quarter zip is having one of those strange fashion moments where everyone is talking about it — but not always for the same reasons.
As seems to be the case for a lot of things these days, one part of the noise is online, while the other part of it is real life. The narratives overlap and get lumped together, but they aren’t quite the same.
In real life, fashion designers have moved the quarter zip from an outdoorsy staple to something to be coveted. One of the key looks in Matthieu Blazy’s first Chanel collection was a loosely fitted tan quarter-zip worn by model Bhavitha Mandava, who opened the show with it paired with loose-fitting jeans. Blazy told The New York Times it was an interpretation of what she had been wearing a year earlier on the subway when she was first scouted. It was anticipated before the show that Chanel would attempt to ground things in the everyday, so the quarter zip is the perfect style for it. Here it was front and centre of a luxury runway show.
At the same time, pieces like Rier’s roughly $1,200 CAD quarter zips have become sought after in fashion circles. These elevated versions sit at odds with the quarter zip most people actually know — the practical, faintly anonymous, mostly swag-less layer that, along with the puffer vest, has long formed part of the so-called midtown uniform preferred by finance bros. Usually made by brands like Patagonia or Ralph Lauren, it’s a garment mostly designed to avoid making a statement at all.
Meanwhile, online, the quarter zip has become a lifestyle signifier. The current wave can be traced in part to a viral clip by a young New Yorker who declares to camera: “We don’t do Nike Tech, we don’t do coffee — it’s straight quarter zips and matchas round here,” while sipping a Blank Street iced matcha in a navy waffle-knit pullover. In other words: I am a responsible adult, and I have my shit together.
And yet, beyond both luxury runway reinterpretations and memes, designers continue to treat the garment with seriousness. Labels like Mfpen and Lady White Co. keep refining their versions, while Toronto’s Body of Work has been developing its Myrtle Quarter-Zip Sweatshirt since 2021.
“We’ve been tweaking it ever since,” says co-founder Brittney MacKinnon. “It marries the fundamentals of good design — bespoke fabric, expert sewing, a signature fit — with something more intangible: an earnestness.” Knit, dyed, cut, and sewn within an hour of the brand’s studio, the piece is designed to create what she describes as a felt sense of ease — not just visual simplicity, but physical and emotional comfort.
That idea of ease may explain the quarter zip’s persistence beyond memes and trend cycles. It’s a garment built around moderation and control. Comfortable and presentable at once — a balance that has enduring appeal. It’s a bit of a Rorschach test. Designers use it to explore refinement and restraint. The internet treats it as a punchline. Office workers rely on it as practical camouflage.
But like anything else, it depends on the wearer. If you have a bit of style — or even just a point of view — it can look intentional and cool. If the goal is to stay warm, blend in, and avoid outdressing your boss, it will do that just as effectively.
Either way, the quarter zip delivers. The quarter zip is forever.
