Columbia Men's Labyrinth Loop II Jacket

Very warm and light. Have worn this on a 5⁰ day with 30 mph winds. Stayed very warm. Quality means everything

This is an old model ! I am really disappointed I bought it for 590SAR and the size was wrong i returned it snd they refunded only 460 !!!!

Excelente calidad

Worth every penny. Good & warm but not bulky. A great coat for when you're driving.

Listen to me very carefully: clear a space in your closet, right next to your tuxedo and your survival gear, because this jacket is about to become your entire personality. If you aren't prepared to be tracked by thermal imaging satellites like a glowing god of heat retention, don’t even click "Add to Cart." ​Why did I buy it? Did I plan on summiting K2? Have I ever spent more than twenty minutes in a sub-zero environment that wasn't a walk-in beer cave? Absolutely not. But that’s not the point. The Labyrinth Loop II isn't just a jacket; it’s a topographical map of dominance. While every other guy is shivering in a fleece he bought at a gas station, you’ll be radiating the kind of synthetic-down confidence that makes people wonder if you’ve just returned from an Antarctic rescue mission. ​The inside of this thing looks like someone gift-wrapped a NASA satellite. It’s got that Omni-Heat Infinity lining—gold sequins that reflect your body heat back at you like you’re a baked potato wrapped in luxury. I walked into a high-end ski lodge last weekend, unzipped this bad boy, and I swear the room’s ambient temperature rose three degrees. The guys in their $2,000 designer parkas looked at me with a mix of fear and deep, spiritual inadequacy. They’ve got the brand name; I’ve got the gold-plated internal organs. ​Gentlemen, a word of caution: Buy your wife a spa day before this arrives. She’s going to get tired of the sheer magnetism you’ll exhibit. I wore this to pick up a jug of milk and three different suburban dads stopped me to ask about the "loft" and the "baffle construction." I didn't tell them it’s recycled synthetic insulation. I told them it was stuffed with the hopes and dreams of mountain explorers. ​Why the Labyrinth? It says, "I might own a dog sled team," even if you actually own a pug with a breathing problem. It’s water-resistant. Does it rain in my living room? No. But knowing I could survive a monsoon while watching Netflix provides a level of psychological security that therapy simply cannot offer. I once brushed up against a jagged rock—well, it was a Sharpie in my junk drawer—and it didn't even leave a mark. It’s basically urban armor. ​I actually lost my first one. I left it on the back of a chair at a five-star steakhouse in Aspen. When I went back, the manager told me a man in a tailored suit had claimed it, insisting it was a "lost artifact of the Golden Age." I wasn't even mad. I just bought another one because the world deserves to see me in this gold-lined masterpiece again. ​Stop settling for being lukewarm. Buy the jacket. Become the sun.