Fit, Function and Features at 40º Below

Kevin Kinney’s middle name could well be “boreal.”

The word refers to the cold weather zone south of the Arctic—the frigid climate his Empire Wool and Canvas outerwear is designed for. In fact, one of his most popular products is called the Boreal shirt.

“My customers are people who live and work outdoors in winter, from 40 degrees above zero to 40 below,” he says. “My clothing is not lightweight like synthetics. It’s not packable. You don’t have to take it off after three or four hours because of moisture buildup. Put it on at 6 in the morning, wear it through lunch, and take it off at midnight when you go to bed.”

Not only do Empire’s customers stay warm and dry, they appreciate that the garments they’re wearing were carefully designed and stitched by Kinney himself, one piece at a time.

Chad Nelson, a long-time friend of Kinney’s and fellow winter camper, admires Kinney’s attention to detail and appreciation for high quality. “He uses snap closures instead of zippers, and double stitches critical hems and seams,” he says. “He keeps things simple, and he is a great mentor. He makes everybody around him better.”

“Fit, function, features—that’s what interests me,” Kinney says. “I like to build things. I like to watch threads go down in a good line. I love it when a customer says, ‘Oh, this feels good.’ I can see it in their eyes.”

Ironically, Kinney started in the outdoor clothing business working with synthetic fibers. He bought the Empire clothing business from Duane and Margot Lottig in 2006, and the Lottigs moved on to grow their Snowtrekker tents product line.

There were just three products at the time: a traditional wool blanket shirt with a simple collar and two antler buttons; gauntlet mittens with a liner inside and shell outside; and a white canvas anorak.

Today, Empire’s offering includes a dozen or so items for the cold weather outerwear market: anoraks, boreal superhoodies, wool camp coats, wool pullovers and jack pine vests, permafrost parkas, removeable fur ruffs and ruff bases, zippered scout shirts, shirts built from your blankets, pullovers, mittens and liners, toboggan bags, and waxed cotton coats. He works alone out of his shop in Duluth but has had four contract sewers over the last 20 years. “I have one now who specializes in making the cotton anoraks,” he explains.

He views his products as if they’re his children. Like a doting parent, he takes special pleasure in the durable, lightweight canvas and nylon-cotton shells Empire produces. “Winter campers need protection from the wind,” he says. “My shells are huge—they’re like walking tents.”

Unlike most small businesses, Kinney is not numbers-driven. He says he doesn’t worry about profit and loss, growth and market share. He eschews the consumer economy that uses things up and throws them away. He sells direct and says he does not need stores or dealers. “I do really well online,” he says.

His focus is on producing products that are durable and useful for his family of customers across the northern states of the U.S. and the provinces of Canada. “I identify a community where my products are useful. Then I try to become part of that community,” he says. About 10-15 percent of Empire’s customers are military and law enforcement. He’s proud that the tactical team in Yellowknife in the Northwest Territories of Canada uses his mittens.

Kinney’s business style is most evident on his clever website, www.empirecanvasworks.com. There, he instructs customers who want him to build a shirt or a hoodie made from their own blankets. “The quality of your blanket determines the look and feel of the finished product. This is your investment,” the website states. Then Kinney adds a few guidelines. “Size matters,” he says, telling customers what size of shirt they can expect from what size of blanket. “You’ll get the scraps unless you want to donate them,” he adds. Hygiene also matters. “Please be sure your blanket is clean and free from odor, pet hair, and grit,” the website advises. “This is non-negotiable.”

Loft and density matter, as well. “I’ve converted just about every type of bedding,” he says, “and all have finer points. But if you can see through it and pinch it down to nothing, leave it on your bed.” Finally: “Wool blankets only, please. I’ve built them for 15 years. My patterns are perfect for the loft, weight and drape of your sheepish bedding. Regular wool fabrics can be too stiff, too loose, too thin, and shrink like mad. And no synthetics. Just no.”

How long does he plan to keep making these tough, warm, and dry winter garments? “I give myself another 10 years,” he says. “It took 20 years to get my feet under me. There are few sewing apprenticeships outside of a true tailoring shop. You can learn design, take classes, get a sewing production job, but very few combine it all to help you start a business. I’ve been through nine other companies on the way to building my own. Then I had to go out and make my own mistakes.”

“It’s fiddly work,” he says of the one-at-a-time custom process of cutting and stitching. “The business can be like a ballet of disaster. It takes a lot of time to build these things. I’ll have to find someone who wants it as I do. I’ll have to find another me.”