America's Ski Clothes

Stretch Pants," said a Texas skier recently, "are the best thing that has happened to skiing since Hannes Schneider." That takes in a lot of territory, but skiers all the way across the country can safely add that the next best thing is that stretch pants, which, like Schneider, were for quite a while available only from Europe, can now be bought from American manufacturers, at American prices. And the same is now true of all ski apparel, with the possible exception of boots and hand-knit ski sweaters. The American manufacturers have come of age, and this year the selection of domestic ski styles equals the best of the European competitors. To the nation's 4 million skiers this means lower prices on everything, since they will no longer have to pay the tariff. Stretch pants from American sources, for example, come in just as many sparkling colors and sell for an average $10 less. To document the American invasion of what has been a European province almost since the sport began, SPORTS ILLUSTRATED has again, as it did last December, surveyed every important ski area in the country. Here are our findings:

Stretch pants are still the biggest news, and anybody who can scrape up the $40 to $50 they cost wants them. The next step, particularly for the lady skier, is the all-stretch suit—one trim line of Helenca from collar to boot, as worn by Skier Amy Baird on this week's cover ($70, from Ernst Engel; at Saks Fifth Ave., J. L. Hudson, Filene's, Bramson's, Frederick and Nelson).

Another new look, one fast becoming a fad, with instructors, and racers setting the pace, is the knicker, far trimmer than the floppy plus eights which were the first ski pants. They come in colored corduroy or in dark woolens and are worn with water-repellent hand-knit socks, made in Norway of unwashed wool. They are popular for spring skiing, as worn at Mt. Hood (opposite).

The favorite new parkas are both quilted and reversible—many of them with a pattern on one side, a contrasting solid color on the other. There is a growing vogue for capes to wear on the chair lift, a fashion borrowed from Bavaria. And speaking of lifts, the almost complete disappearance of the rope tow, which snagged parkas, has helped "sharpen up" the American skier. There are many specialized regional fads: crash helmets in the Northwest, Mexican vests in the Southwest, Army-surplus wildcat-skin parkas in New England—and collector's-item European sweaters everywhere.

Ski-Tow Poncho ($40, Ernst Engel) with a collar which forms a hood is of sky-blue loden. Amy Baird of Portland, Ore. wears it with a matching poplin fastcap ($3, White Stag).

Knickers are back as top ski fashion in trim versions copied from Alpine mountaineering pants. At Mount Hood, Doug McCabe of San Mateo, Calif. and Cornelia St. John of Greenwich, Conn. team corduroy knickers ($15, Edelweiss), hand-knit socks (Selbu, $11).

Shirttail Parka ($18, White Stag) in icegreen poplin piped with white is a bestseller. Cornelia St. John wears it with white stretch pants ($45, by Dormer-Werner) at Timberline Lodge.

After-Ski Capes (men's $25; women's, $30; White Stag) are copied from Bavarian classics, and are worn by Timberline Manager Dick Kohnstamm and Carolyn Rice at ski tow shack.

Color and pattern blaze on the mountains. Carolyn Rice of Portland matches red Helanca pants ($40) with coin-printed, reversible nylon parka ($23) and C. B. Vaughan of Manchester, Vt. with poplin parka ($23, all White Stag).

MT. HOOD'S MARCHESE