Scout Seattle, we know about ya. I see you swapping out Italian selvedge for that raw, uncut Japanese shit and subsequently flipping what was already the most expensive sleeping bag of all time at $487 into a $712 yam. I know I should just be straight making fun of this seven hundred dollar sleeping bag similarly to how I have done in the past, but I'm older, wiser and more mature now, so I fucking want this shit. No, seriously, I do want it. I love camping and all, but I love fancy camping even more. Back in my college days, we used to go camping all the time, but, like, shitty, poor people camping where you sleep on nylon and down and foam and eat oatmeal and spaghetti and shit. Then I met this rich girl and we went fancy camping and that was the shit! We grilled salmon and drank red wine and slept in a canvas wall tent that had a fucking stove inside. She even had stacks of Pendleton blankets on deck. I was like in a RRL coke dream, guys. I thought I was gonna hit, but, while I doused the fire outside, she set up two very distinct cots for us to spend the night in. I feel like had I contributed to the overall high-end outdoors experience with a Japanese selvedge denim and chambray "field bed," I would've been in it. And then we would've fallen in love and I would've married into a really wealthy family. Instead, all I brought to the table was weed. I should've remembered the age old adage: RICH GIRLS ALWAYS GOT THE WEED HOOKUP, BUT THEY DON'T ALWAYS HAVE THE LATEST $700 ARTISANAL SLEEPING BAG HOOKUP.