Is the Palantir chore coat the right fit for you?
In late April, Palantir, a software company known for its defense contracts and work with immigration enforcement, revealed new additions to its merchandise lineup, including a cotton chore coat. Priced at $239 and available in vibrant blue and black, the jacket resembles a classic piece of menswear that has been popularized over the years, drawing inspiration from 19th-century French workwear. The only distinguishing feature is a subtle Palantir logo on the breast pocket.
The jacket stirred up quite a reaction. One TikTok user labeled it “Evil boring French workwear for evil boring guys,” while fashion enthusiasts questioned why a company that champions U.S. military strength wouldn’t draw from American workwear traditions. Nevertheless, all 420 units sold out by the end of the day it launched.
For over a year, Palantir has been promoting itself as a lifestyle brand. In a recent interview, a company representative claimed that Palantir aims to provide the best software capabilities for U.S. institutions and their allies, suggesting that wearing their branded clothing aligns individuals with this mission. The messaging around the merchandise includes themes of supporting military personnel and strengthening Western institutions, yet the clothing itself lacks overt patriotic symbols or slogans. Instead, it seems to serve as a marketing tool for the company, appealing to those who resonate with its values.
Fashion journalist Avery Trufelman noted that Palantir’s desire to be part of the fashion conversation is a savvy move, even if it risks coming off as trying too hard to be trendy. The connection between fashion and the military is well-documented, with many contemporary styles rooted in military apparel. Brands like Patagonia have also collaborated with the military while catering to outdoor enthusiasts.
Trufelman pointed out that it’s not uncommon for defense contractors to venture into consumer products. For instance, PrimaLoft’s synthetic insulation was originally developed for military use but is now found in jackets sold at outdoor retailers. Camouflage patterns designed for soldiers have also made their way into civilian fashion. However, Palantir’s focus is on software rather than clothing, and its merchandise serves more as a branding exercise for tech-savvy consumers.
Derek Guy, a menswear writer, emphasized that Palantir’s target audience consists of urban professionals who spend their days in front of screens. The chore coat aligns with current fashion trends for this demographic. Palantir has cultivated a dedicated following, particularly among retail investors who actively engage with the company’s developments. By offering merchandise beyond typical promotional items, Palantir aims to transform its supporters into brand ambassadors.
Fans like Connor, who owns tech merchandise from various companies, expressed that wearing these items reflects their interests and affiliations. Another fan, Alex, has collected Palantir gear over the years and views the company as a counterpoint to tech firms that exploit user data. He wears the merchandise to spark conversations about the company, although he often finds that people are hesitant to engage directly.
Palantir is clearly investing in its merchandise strategy, with plans to launch a tennis collection soon. However, the company’s attempts to convey a sense of style and cultural relevance have faced criticism. For example, a previously sold crewneck sweatshirt with the phrase “SILICON VALLEY DROPOUTS” drew comparisons to designs by the late fashion designer Virgil Abloh, suggesting a lack of originality.
Alex, who has a background in creativity, opted out of the Off-White-inspired sweatshirt, finding it distasteful. He noted that the products often cater to a bubble of consumers whose tastes are shaped by algorithms and stylists, resulting in a disconnect from the original cultural context.
Palantir’s branding efforts are inextricably linked to its business practices. Supporters wear the logo to signal their alignment with the company, while critics view it as a symbol of ethical concerns. The merchandising strategy aims to generate social media buzz and engage a base of supporters, but building cultural credibility in the face of criticism is a more complex challenge.
The sold-out chore coat brought to mind another tech company’s merchandising efforts: OpenAI’s collection of employee swag, which includes quirky items like a basketball and a T-shirt with a handwritten script. Interestingly, OpenAI also has a chore coat in a similar style, but it hasn’t garnered the same media attention.
Palantir’s direct engagement with its fanbase is reminiscent of a recent branding event by Anthropic, which hosted a pop-up in New York City. Marketed as an anti-AI gathering, attendees received free caps and coffee, creating a sense of community and authenticity. While Palantir appeals to those enthusiastic about military power, Anthropic seems to target creatives and thinkers, as reflected in its merchandise.
As I browsed through OpenAI’s shop, I stumbled upon a baseball cap from September 2024, a year before Anthropic’s pop-up, featuring the phrase “Still thinking.”
