Over the past decade or so, the chore coat has become a menswear mainstay. What was once a purely functional garment worn by laborers and farmers, and later famously embraced by the late photographer Bill Cunningham, is now worn by everyone from playground dads to creative directors, the server at your local small-plates wine bar, and Harry Styles throughout basically all of 2025.

In fact, the chore coat has become so ubiquitous that it’s occasionally been declared over, even by this publication. But the chore coat cannot be denied. It’s too easy-wearing, too useful, too classic: right up there with a Harrington jacket or a jean jacket. You might think it’s out, but then it pulls you back in.

I’ve long been an enjoyer of the chore coat’s trendy utility myself, picking up an authentic French Bleu de travail in London a few years back. I like it, but it’s a committed look. It’s very, well, bleu.

Which is why I’m here to tell you that after spending time with a version from Flint and Tinder, I’m now confident I’ve found a chore jacket that feels far more everyday. If you’re unfamiliar, the brand is increasingly becoming known for making well-crafted, rugged classics favored by Hollywood tough guys like Josh Brolin and Chris Evans—it even had a breakout moment when Pedro Pascal wore its trucker jacket during the first season of The Last of Us.

Courtesy of Ben Kriz

Courtesy of Ben Kriz

The key to this jacket’s versatility starts with the fit. The boxy cut easily handles being layered over without ever feeling cramped, and I’m sure it would still work as a sole additional layer in milder weather. (The current Toronto winter hasn’t given me many opportunities for this, but I’m already anticipating it becoming a major part of my Spring wardrobe.)

For now, it fits beautifully under my overcoat and over a flannel shirt. It’s a natural pairing with my dark 3Sixteen jeans and Paraboots as pictured, though my lighter jeans and chinos will get their turn soon enough. (Note: I’m usually a medium, and that’s what I’ve gone with here.)

I also love the cotton twill. This soft, peachy fabric is a real upgrade from my French find, with just a hint of stretch for mobility, something the old-school versions definitely lack. But even with the softer hand, durability hasn’t been overlooked. There’s reinforced stitching at the back of the collar, and standout double-stitched hip patch pockets with both top and side openings—great news for anyone who panics when a camera comes out and doesn’t know what to do with their hands, and the double stitching also means these are pockets built to actually be used. (There are also interior and chest pockets for extra storage, plus button cuffs for easy sleeve rolling, should you find yourself doing something that resembles actual work.)

Unlike the intense indigo of traditional French bleus de travail, Flint and Tinder has softened the palette with four colourways: dark navy, olive, chocolate, and the tan, earth-toned shade I opted for. It feels a little more American, more open road. But like the classic chore coats, it remains relaxed, natural and easy to forget to take off. Whenever I call upon it, it simply clocks in and gets to work.