Darcy Conover envied her husband, Adam Moszynski, every time they skied together, but not for聽his skills.聽Both are professional ski mountaineers, and Conover has summited prominent objectives around the Western Hemisphere, including 92 of Colorado鈥檚 Centennial Peaks, the 100 highest peaks in the state. What Moszynski had was a one-piece base layer that outperformed anything in Conover鈥檚 closet. It taunted her: why couldn鈥檛 she get something awesome like that?
As a pro sponsored by such brands as K盲stle and Marmot, Conover tests and wears all manner of top-shelf gear, but she still couldn鈥檛 find a base layer she truly loved. 鈥淭he stuff that functioned well was so unflattering,鈥 Conover says. And the good-looking pieces from companies like Lululemon and Athleta didn鈥檛 deliver the performance she needs for high-stakes climbing and skiing. So, in 2012, Conover and Moszynski founded their own company, , and began producing U.S.-made base layers with function and flair. Conover鈥檚 pet project: a women鈥檚 onesie.
It鈥檚 not the first women鈥檚 onesie. , too, but with heavyweight Capilene that Conover deemed too warm for most pursuits. Others, like the , had unflattering cuts. And none of them hit all the points on Conover鈥檚 wish list: three-quarter-length tights to prevent bunching under her boots, easy bathroom access, warm yet breathable fabric suited to high-output activities in the cold, and a hood cut big enough to accommodate a ponytail.
All these elements had to come together into something that genuinely looked good. Conover sometimes felt like she was chasing a unicorn. 鈥淲e spent a lot of time obsessing over where the seams should go on the legs,鈥 she says. 鈥淚t鈥檚 amazing how if you move a seam just one inch on the butt, that change can make your butt look way bigger.鈥
She recruited a team of real-life models with a range of body types to stand for hours while聽Conover and her Minnesota-based designer drew and redrew leg seams until they landed on tailoring that flattered pretty much everyone. Adding ruching to the chest seams also proved to be a universal winner: the gathered fabric helped accommodate a range of bust sizes.
Core skiers and boarders don鈥檛 want their daily uniform to look like a potato sack.
Corbeaux鈥檚 first run of the had everything that Conover wanted, but she fretted about the zippered bathroom access. The opening across the back was functional, but the zipper pull was tricky to operate with cold fingers or gloves, and Conover worried that any zipper would eventually fail. It also made the waistband more rigid than she wanted.
She spent the next two years reengineering the drop seat, eventually replacing the zipper with elastic that鈥檚 snug enough to keep deep snow out of your pants. 鈥淲e didn鈥檛 want a dumpy, saggy butt,鈥 says Conover. She exchanged the bamboo-blend fabric, which didn鈥檛 stretch enough to accommodate various body shapes, for a recycled polyester-spandex blend. Conover also axed the original version鈥檚 built-in mitts (too bulky when not in use) and transformed the front zipper into a jauntily angled zip.
The current version鈥攖he 鈥攊s Conover鈥檚 vision, perfected. 鈥淚鈥檓 psyched on it, really psyched, because we nailed the functionality, and I think they look adorable.鈥 Her fellow pros agree: Lynsey Dyer, McKenna Peterson, and Amie Engerbretson have all adopted the 1Z. So have women in Aspen, Colorado, where Conover lives and operates Corbeaux. 鈥淎round here, it鈥檚 become the big apr猫s outfit. Girls are ditching the jacket and pants and wearing just the 1Z because they鈥檙e that cute.鈥
The 1Z is surprisingly warm given the thinness of the fabric. It keeps snow out of my pants on crazy-deep days. The hood fits comfortably under my ski helmet. The drop seat keeps most of my skin covered when I pop a squat in the backcountry. And the 1Z streamlines what I pack on a hut trip: it鈥檚 skiwear and loungewear. After all, core skiers and boarders don鈥檛 want their daily uniform to look like a potato sack. 鈥淚f we鈥檙e wearing this stuff all day, every day, why can鈥檛 we look cute in it?鈥 says Conover.