Our classic Chubbies. 5.5" inseam with a zipper fly and an elastic waistband. They do a body good.
Like your pop's trunks back in the day – elastic waistband, comfortable fabrics and the classic Chubseam to keep them quads liberated in all your aquatic debauchery.
Seamlessly transitioning from deep dive to dive bar.
American flag shorts, state flag shorts, and just general badassery contained within.
Rep yo state like a boss.
Hotdiggity-dog. It's a living breathing thigh-enhancing relic from the 80’s. The greatest time period there ever will or could be. It’s not showing off when you make it look this good.
Bursting from your loins like a show-stopping geyser of hot molten lava.
Michelangelo would blush at the nautical perfection of these wave wallopers. If they don't instantly qualify you to captain an America's Cup boat, well that would actually make sense because they're shorts.
“I’m just gonna come out and say it. I’m ready to take on the Catalina Wine Mixer. I’m ready. I’m walking tall. I’ve been earning and burning. Snapping necks and cashing checks. POW!"
Beer-battered and hand-fried, just the way we like it. These dusty mango and blue shorts transition perfectly from deep dive to dive bar.
f barbecuing isn’t an aquatic activity, then explain to us why sandbars exist? That’s what we thought. Get your swim on and your grill on in these turquoise surf’n turfers.
Fill it up again. And again. And again. Once it hits your lips it's just so good. We 100% expect you to have a nice little Saturday or twelve in these maestros of libation selection.
Head and shoulders and chest and torso above the rest. Way up here the hammocks swing a lil' smoother, the cosmic rays toast a lil toastier, and the vibes mellow so good.
Hey Farva what's the name of that restaurant you like with all the goofy shit on the walls and the mozzarella sticks?
Who doesn't want a bunch of macaws and parrots all over their shirt?
Just lean that head back and let them arms dangle - it's the Weekend, man.
Just bask in the glory of the perfect Weekend shirt.
Your highly wearable and most righteously portable party capsule - The Fungalow. Toss’r on and let the beat wash over you.
The party don’t start til you walk in. And you most definitely don’t leave until the thing ends. Well unless you’ve got better places to be. Then you might duck out for a second.
You’ve got it all. Oceanside views. Bevies on demand. All-you-can-crush buffets. Packs of beauteous ladyfolk. And the most radical tank in the biz.
We upped the buoyancy factor on this baby by a couple orders of magnitude so you could majestically hover above crowds like Pegasus reincarnate.