Guide to what surfers actually wear prompts Silver Lake residents to confirm they own all of the clothes and none of the boards
SILVER LAKE – A field study conducted on the Eastside has found that the overwhelming majority of Los Angeles men who dress like surfers have had no physical contact with the Pacific Ocean in at least a decade, and that several are unsure which direction it is in.
The research was prompted by the publication of a new guide to the best men’s surf clothing of 2026, subtitled “what surfers actually wear.” Investigators at the Eastside Institute for Lifestyle Verification wanted to know who was actually wearing it.
Methodology
Over three weekends, researchers surveyed 800 men in surf-adjacent attire at coffee shops between Sunset Junction and Echo Park Lake, an area 14 miles from the nearest wave. Ninety-four percent reported no ocean contact since 2016 or earlier. Sixty-one percent could not name a surf break other than “Malibu” and “the one in Point Break.” Thirty-eight percent own a surfboard, which they described as “a wall piece.”
“We were not prepared for the consistency,” said lead researcher Dr. Simone Achterberg. “We expected some of them to surf. Statistically, a few should have done it by accident.”
A Representative Subject
Julian Abernathy-Cole, 36, a brand strategist, was interviewed in an oat latte line on a morning when the temperature was 84 degrees. He wore a fisherman beanie, a canvas chore coat in a color the label calls kelp, corduroy trunks and sandals marketed as reef-safe.
“I would say surfing is a huge part of my identity,” Mr. Abernathy-Cole said. “Do I go? I mean, the 10 is a nightmare. But I check the cams most mornings. I am very much in conversation with the ocean.”
He owns a wetsuit. The tags are still attached. He said he hung it outside once in 2019 “as a precaution” and that it has been in a tote bag since. He was able to describe the tote bag in detail.
Field Identification Guide
- Hair. Surfer: damaged by salt water. Dressed as surfer: damaged by a $48 bottle of sea salt spray.
- Vehicle. Surfer: sand, wax, a smell. Dressed as surfer: a roof rack that has carried nothing since the day it was installed.
- Tan. Surfer: stops at the wrists and neck. Dressed as surfer: even, from a patio.
- Speech. Surfer: “It was okay.” Dressed as surfer: “The ocean is my church.”
- Feet. Surfer: reef cuts. Dressed as surfer: a tattoo of a wave.
- Schedule. Surfer: in the water at 5:45 a.m. Dressed as surfer: describes 9:30 as “pretty early for me.”
The Control Group
For comparison, researchers drove to San Pedro and interviewed Manny Ochoa, 52, a plumber who surfs before work five days a week. He was wearing jeans and a hooded sweatshirt from a tire shop.
“There is a guide?” Mr. Ochoa said. He was shown the list on a phone and scrolled through it politely. “These are nice. Who has the time? You get out of the water, you put on whatever is in the truck. I have trunks from a warehouse store. Three-pack. One of them is orange. I did not pick orange. It came with.”
Asked what surfers actually wear, Mr. Ochoa thought for a moment. “A towel,” he said. “In a parking lot. For about ninety seconds. That is the outfit. Everything after that is just clothes.”
Built to Last
Nobody disputes the quality of the garments. One reviewer who has worn a single surf label for a decade reports that pieces from its first season in 2016 still look new. Dr. Achterberg said the Eastside sample is on course to beat that record, since its clothing has been exposed to nothing harsher than a ceiling fan.
“We examined a pair of boardshorts purchased in 2018,” she said. “No fading. No salt. The drawstring had never been tied. In materials science we would call that a pristine specimen. The owner called them his lucky shorts. We asked what they were lucky for. He said brunch.”
Retail Meets Demand
Merchants on Sunset Boulevard see no contradiction. Odette Marchetti runs a boutique that sells a $240 flannel called the Dawn Patrol. “Our customer gets up at 9:30,” she said. “Dawn is a mood. He wants to look like a man who has just come from the water, without the water, which is cold and far away and full of other people.”
Her best-selling item is a $65 candle called Wax. It smells like surf wax. “They burn it in apartments in Los Feliz,” she said. “One man told me it takes him right back. I asked back to where. He said the store.”
Dr. Achterberg said the findings fit a wider pattern. “In most cities, people dress for the job they want,” she said. “In Los Angeles, people dress for the hobby they want credit for.”
Not Only a Local Species
Similar populations have been recorded elsewhere. The London Prat has long documented the English equivalent, men in waxed jackets and Wellington boots who have not stood in a field since a wedding in 2014. Bohiney Magazine tracks the Texas variety, the lifted pickup truck that has never hauled anything heavier than an iced coffee.
Plans to Return
Mr. Abernathy-Cole said he fully intends to get back in the water this winter. He listed the conditions that would need to be met.
“Once things calm down at work,” he said. “And the water warms up. And I find my leash. And somebody tells me where to park.” He adjusted his beanie. “And where it is.”
SOURCE: bohiney.com
