The cooliest
Yeti’s origins were formed in two crucibles at once: those who definitely need their coolers to be bear-proof while they drop off-grid for six weeks, and those who had a spiritual experience while watching Jackass. Neither of these demographics describes me. Then Yeti branched out into water bottles, and the Lincoln Park socialite set got hold of them, and they became a bit of a status symbol. Again, this demographic does not describe me.
Yeti has nonetheless wormed its tentacles into my home because it does three things well: look good, perform correctly, and last forever. Yes, there are imitators for less, but they aren’t Yeti, and I have the extra few bucks to get the thing that is in fact Yeti.
Yeti puts out many things that make no sense for any rational person to buy. Lids that are likely to break. Espresso cups with handles. A french press, in defiance of god. (Mercifully, they have a pourover cone, but the grooves are weird.) Yeti is the zero-interest-rate corporation that was never told to stop, to do one thing well, to consider expansion with deep intention, and so now we have this.
The line between “design masterpiece” and “conceptually bankrupt abomination” runs thin at Yeti. This does not change the fact that there are in fact design masterpieces at Yeti, and anybody attempting to claim otherwise is wrong. They did a better job designing water bottles than Snow Peak and a worse job designing water bottles than Nalgene. There is no focus at Yeti.
So: when you think of what Yeti makes, what do you think? Coolers, definitely; water bottles, probably. Shut out all other noise. They are not an apparel company. They are not a coffee company. They are definitely not a bag company, and their buying a beloved bag company and slowly ethering everything that made them worth buying does not make them a bag company. They did all of the research on everything that makes them great, and none of the research on a bunch of other stuff that is probably durable enough to outlast my corporeal form, but nonetheless lacks the design parameters to be truly useful.
A lot of this sounds like I’m dissing Yeti. There is a lot to diss about Yeti. There is also much to praise about Yeti. Their core narrative plays cleanly to the notion of ruggedization that has suffused text since the beginning. Their totes and coolers work at any size, with any wall construction. Their wheeled cooler has brought so much convenience & happiness to my summer life that it feels absurd & uncomfortable to admit it. Their Camino might be the best tote going, assuming you’re cool with their weight. And I don’t know how they made a double-wall water bottle with a cap that well-designed that I can throw in the dishwasher wholesale, but I’ll take it.
One, then, must separate performance from vibe. Is it worth buying from? Is it ok for you to have the giant logo right there? Are you comfortable with their specific opinionatedness? Is the rest of your aesthetic strong enough to render a Yeti cooler in the corner just part of the furniture? Are you ok with your 300-year buying decision?