Shopping Local - A Two Way Street
A few months ago I packed up all my belongings into a U-Haul trailer and made the trek from the Wasatch out to a little mountain town in Northern Washington where I knew absolutely nobody. After the stress (and back pain) of moving wore off, my first order of business was to find my local gear shop. Why? Because I’ll have something in common with almost anybody there - we love to ski.
Even though a lot of us, myself included, may feel at home walking into a ski shop, that is far from the reality for many people. I learned to ski as soon as I could stand and spent some time working at a consignment gear store in my hometown of Salt Lake City. Specialized ski jargon is like a second language for me (and a lot of folks reading this), but seemingly simple terms like “last” and “waist width” may be total gibberish for newcomers to the sport. Beyond that elitism in expertise, deep seeded privilege in snow sports creates barriers for people of color, queer folks, and those without resources to invest hundreds to thousands of dollars into a new sport. As a visibly queer person, I feel like I belong in these spaces, but it can sometimes feel like not everybody agrees with me.
For a lot of skiers, this paradox of belonging complicates how we interact with the culture of skiing and outdoor sports in general. While opening up your laptop and deciphering descriptions of ski gear on the web may be a pain for new skiers and seasoned buyers alike, some may find the struggle outweighs the risk of feeling shut out by a sales rep at a ski shop. Despite the valid intimidation you might feel walking blind into your local gear store, I encourage the prospective online shopper to resist the temptation of a corporate chatbot and take a visit to your local ski shop. You may have more in common than you previously realized.
The negative impacts of a culture baked in elitism permeates deeper than the experience of the novice ski shop patron. “Within the industry there’s so much gatekeeping” says Laura Patton, co-owner of Colchuck Consignment, a community-oriented consignment gear store in Cashmere, Washington. But when faced with gatekeeping, Laura chose to deepen her connection with the people around her. “I learned the most by listening to what my community needs… I’m still learning.” Started as a COVID-19 side project, Laura built Colchuck Consignment with community at its core. From a library of high end gear available for check out, to spotlighting ski movies made by under-represented athletes, walking into this space would make anyone happy they closed their laptop in favor of a local shop. On an unrelated note - Laura’s dad wrote for Powder back in the 80's!
While it may seem like breaking down this culture of gatekeeping is impossible, you can start with an easy first step - shopping local. Understand the value of your dollar. Laura is far from the only shop owner taking steps towards a more inclusive approach. Every time you step away from a corporate website and support gear shops that cater to their community, you help develop a potential center of acceptance within a historically inaccessible sport. While breaking down years of exclusivity and gatekeeping takes more than buying gear from the right places, it can be an important slice of the pie.
Ski shops are more to us, and our community, than just a place to buy gear. Your local shop can be a gathering place, ski movie theater, and an opportunity to perfect the art of schmoozing a $50 tune for a 30 rack of cheap beer. Shopping local is a two-way street. Invest in your community and it will return the favor. Don’t make people guess if they are walking into a welcome space, proudly offer skiers of all levels, shapes, sizes, colors, and orientation space to gather and get outside. At the end of the day, we all have one uniting thing in common - we all love to ski.
