"Enough with the WFH sweatpants, dress like the adult you're getting paid to be," decried The LA Times late last week in a scathing rebuke to the new appetite for comfies. Sweatsuits aren't proper, they reasoned, inappropriate for professionals and in the long, tall, old-fashioned shadow of polished tailored. And I would disagree. Strongly.
For while well-made suits and high-waisted trousers have a unique ability to make you feel and look good, so too do the sweatpants and co-ord sweaters of recent years. It's no binary choice. Instead, the swelling tides of menswear (y'know, the reformatting of dress codes that's left the old guard very, very cross) are to be welcomed. Just as charcoal suits don't scream 'finance worker with a wife that never texts back,' sweatsuits don't really mumble 'high-scoring 30-year-old Fortnite veteran'.
Gucci, a few years back, took its Wes Anderson at Studio 54 aesthetic to the tennis court (the big punchy Ribena-coloured one at Andy Murray's Perthshire hotel) – and it stayed there ever since. Thus, the appetite for bold, bougie sweatsuits was partly cemented, and several other brands took a stab at draping the sweatsuit (and its immediate siblings in the tracksuit and the shellsuit) in its coat of arms. Fendi had a go. As did Moncler. Off-White. Givenchy. Thom Browne. Tom Ford. C.P. Company. Dsquared². Versace. You get the picture.
Nods to flammable fluoros of the Seventies and acid shades of the Eighties may seem like a recent redux. But elevated sweatsuits made of nice fabrics aren't so new. Nor are they always such show offs. In S/S '16 – a time considered Triassic by fashion's fast-moving standards – Burberry debuted sweatpants below polished shirts and jackets, and above a shoe never originally designed for such louche settings: the loafer. And it worked. And yes, it did seem business-appropriate, especially with models carrying Burberry's signature briefcases, that, again, worked in situ.
It proves that sweatpants and co-ord sweatshirts are more versatile than many would have us believe. I, for one, have taken to stomping the fields around my parents' village in a grey borstal-like get-up topped with a big houndstooth overcoat. It worked. Perhaps not by the standards of quilted dog walkers, who stared on as if I were about to burgle their mock Tudor. But it felt like something I could wear to work. People aren't so easily startled there. They don't deem a well-composed sweatsuit to be something of an ill, either.
Better yet, Oxford shirts are an easy to way dress things up. T-shirts can be tucked in for a little more polish. And if sweatsuits are to get a blanket ban, where does that leave comfortable, pleated drawstring trousers? Are they not just the elder brother of the sweatpant: the one that has the cash for a double-fronted garage and childcare at that nice little place in St. John's Wood? What of sweatsuits crafted by the verified greats? Brunello Cucinelli, Sunspel and Loro Piana – three brands with firm roots in the craftsmanship and prestige of it all – make fine, structured sweatsuits in virgin wools and silk-cashmere blends. They exist. They're in no way "ratty, gray, decades-old". They're actually really nice.
The sweatsuit has its own heritage too. Its not quite as storied as Savile Row, granted. But as menswear at large widens its net, and thus democratises, terrace style has been dragged onboard in the form of comfortable jogging bottoms and sweatshirts, proving to be just as viable an outfit as those born in Mayfair members clubs. It may be younger than tailoring, but it's by no means lesser, and the threads of working class sports are worthy of a menswearification too. And don't tell the old guard, but you can even mix the two. Yes: smarts and comfies can be cross pollinated, as Burberry and Mr. Cucinelli so deftly prove. Nobody would cast quick scorn on these outfits popping up on the Zoom conference call.
Because guess what: adults in gainful employment wear sweatsuits, in all shades of fun and smart and structured and flashy. And they're worth every penny.
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