You can’t control the weather.

Awning started with the ambition of being half dry: a vision somewhere between trash bags and real ski pants, or Grunden’s with gaitors and zippered pockets. I think it came to me in a dream or maybe after taking off soaked underwear one too many times. Not sure it matters.

We design super waterproof ski and snowboard bibs specifically for wet, foul‑weather days in the Pacific Northwest and Alaska, using coated waterproof fabric alongside breathable 3-layer panels. Instead of rewriting this 100 more times, I’ll just say, if you live here, you know.

Why Typical “Waterproof” Bibs Still Get You Soaked

The short version: most ski outerwear uses a three-layer (3L) membrane fabric. It is waterproof, but not infinitely waterproof. 3L membrane technology is only waterproof up to a certain "pressure," as denoted by the 20k rating. A 20k rating means the fabric withstood 20,000 mm of water pressure in a lab test before water leaks. Allegedly, this is a far greater pressure than we could withstand in our daily lives. But real ski days are not a lab test. Rain, wet snow, a full day on soggy chairlifts, sitting in slush, and pressure on your butt and thighs can expose pants to exactly the kind of sustained moisture and pressure that makes “waterproof” feel less convincing. If you live here, you know.

Traditional 3L fabric also relies on a DWR finish on its face fabric to keep water beading up instead of soaking in. DWR wears down with use, washing, dirt, and abrasion. When the face fabric wets out, pants can feel cold, heavy, and clammy, while breathability drops.

Awning uses coated waterproof fabric on the butt and thighs. It is a different tradeoff: more protection from wet weather, less inherent breathability. That is why we use vents, softshell panels, and 3L fabric where movement and heat management matter.

Behind the scenes…

This is me. I am Tory. I started Awning. I don’t like talking about myself, so I put this at the bottom :)

I grew up skiing in trash bags on the east coast, hence the trash bag dreams mentioned above, most likely. I moved to Bellingham, WA circa sometime around 2019.

I love skiing. I am, maybe not most known, but at least partially known for encouraging chairlift skiing despite bad forecasts. You don’t know before you go.

When I’m not spending an hour and a half in the car on the way to Baker, I am often drinking coffee or rosé like a good millennial, reading a book, biking, putzing around the house, or reconciling the Awning QuickBooks account.

My next dream—after the reincarnated trash bag one—is to make this brand something shared.