The North Face—or, as we more simply tend to say in Italy, North Face—is a brand with two souls.

On one side is its original vocation: the mountains and high-altitude expeditions. Today, North Face outfits athletes who climb some of the highest and most inhospitable peaks on the planet, such as K2—an extreme context in which what you wear, what you have on your feet or on your back, can make the difference between a successful mission and failure. And, not infrequently, between life and death.

On the other side is an equally evident but opposite vocation: the urban, lifestyle one. North Face is one of the most widespread outdoor brands in the world, a constant presence in major global cities. Its jackets and backpacks move through train stations, airports, and subways; duffel bags bearing the logo have become familiar objects on trains and intercontinental flights.

It is a tension that Jacob Frisk, Creative Director EMEA of The North Face, openly acknowledges. For Frisk, however, the point is not to choose which of the two souls to privilege, but to remain faithful to a single direction: “the most important thing is to stay who you are as a brand. You can’t try to be someone else: we are who we are, and people adapt to that.”

It is from this position—uncompromising, but clearly stated—that the new collection takes shape: a collection that, through an apparently simple gesture, colors North Face’s most technical line in black and builds a surprisingly powerful operation. 

The collection is called Summit Series Advanced Mountain Kit Black Edition, and its founding gesture is almost disarming. It introduces no new functions, does not simplify the technology, and does not adapt the product to the city. It changes only the color.

As Frisk makes clear, “we haven’t changed anything except the color. All the technologies are exactly the same.” The system remains identical in every part: “it’s the entire layering system, from the base layer all the way to the big down jacket.”

Jacob Frisk, Creative Director EMEA, The North Face

Frisk insists on this point because this is where the radical nature of the operation lies: “we didn’t take one single piece and say, ‘this is for the city.’ We brought the entire collection.” No simplification, no compromise. Just a chromatic gesture.

The Advanced Mountain Kit was born for a specific context: extreme alpinism. Not for the city, not for fashion. “Everything you see here is designed by the athletes,” Frisk explains, “starting from what is actually needed to climb K2.”

In the mountains, these garments and accessories have a vital function. They protect from cold, moisture, and wind; they must be lightweight, compressible, and reliable. In the city, that same functional intensity becomes excess. And it is precisely this excess that produces meaning: not because it is needed, but because it exists.

The context changes, the product does not. “This is not lifestyle,” Frisk reiterates, “it’s pure technical gear.” And that is precisely why, paradoxically, it also works elsewhere.

It is inevitable to read this operation through the lens of gorpcore, the aesthetic that has normalized the use of technical apparel in urban space. But the Black Edition positions itself slightly to the side of the trend.

There is no irony, no overlap of codes, no stylistic play. The technology is not referenced; it is displayed in its purest form. “Technical products speak about longevity,” Frisk observes, “not about trends that constantly change.” For this reason, he adds, “they don’t follow fashion.”

Rather than chasing gorpcore, this collection represents its definitive proof: technical gear works in the city not because it is fashionable, but because it is not.

At high altitude, color is a matter of safety: it serves to be visible, to signal presence, to stand out in the landscape. Black does the opposite. It absorbs, compacts, subtracts.

“Black is the only detail that makes the product more urban,” Frisk acknowledges. But when you move closer to the garments, the technicality remains evident: “when you touch them, when you feel them, you immediately understand that every piece is more than a garment—it’s an innovation.”

Jacob Frisk

The result is not a “city jacket,” but a product that carries the imaginary of six thousand meters with it even when worn elsewhere.

Another key element of this operation is what is not there. No collaborations, no external brands, no shortcuts to address a different audience. “Usually we use collaborations to flirt with another audience,” Frisk says. “Here we didn’t.”

It is a choice that speaks of trust. “It’s a big step for us,” he says, “because it means truly trusting who we are as a brand.” Not trying to become something else, but remaining radically oneself.

According to Frisk, this move is not an isolated one, but is destined to leave a mark: “I believe this will orient the future of the brand.” Not because it expands North Face’s perimeter, but because it makes it more legible.

And here the double soul returns, closing the circle. For Frisk, there is no contradiction between mountain and city, but only one possible direction: “we remain who we are. We don’t build products to adapt to a context; it’s the context that, if it wants to, adapts to us.

”In the mountains, these pieces can save lives. In the city, they are not necessary—and that is precisely the point. The Summit Series Advanced Mountain Kit Black Edition is the collection with which you climb K2, suddenly made inhabitable by “common people.” Not because it has been simplified, but because the product remains identical.

The context has changed. And the color. But everything else is still, simply, North Face.

All images: Summit Series Advanced Mountain Kit Black Edition. Courtesy The North Face