Earlier this fall, GQ’s Global Style Director, Noah Johnson, wrote an obituary for gorpcore: “[gorpcore] as a trend
 is dead. Let it be known.” For the uninitiated, “gorpcore” uses an acronym for trail mix (“good old raisins and peanuts,” although that meaning is ) to describe aÌęstyle that involves wearing outdoorsy clothes as streetwear.ÌęThe term, which has its origins in “normcore,” was coined by former New York Magazine writer Jason Chen in 2017.

Here’s the thing, though, if gorpcore is dead, why is Prada selling (that look a lot like regular ol’ Carhartts)? Why are outlets like theÌęNew York Post still breathlessly ? Why did a collaboration between break the internet for a day? Why did the iconic ski brand Salomon set up a aimed at courting a new, high-fashion consumer base?

In reality, the title of the GQ piece, “,” is a bit deceptive. When Johnson eulogizes gorpcore, he doesn’t mean that you won’t be seeing men and women from Brooklyn to the Harper’s Ferry headquarters of the Appalachian Trail in the North Face, Marmot, Salomon, and Patagonia. Instead, he argues that the style has become so ubiquitous it shouldn’t be considered a new trend anymore.

So where do $1,000 fleeces fit in?

To make sense of some of 2024’s most outlandish high-end outdoor wear, I talked to , the internet’s foremost łŸ±đČÔ’s fashion historian, who helped me put the year’s key pieces into a broader context.

The Prada Barn Coat, a Cool $4,900

First up: Prada’s canvas barn coat, which the fashion blog In the Groove named The coat, which apparently became the , looks like something Kevin Costner’s Yellowstone character might wear while taking a rideabout on the family ranch. That, plus the Prada triangle logo. Its price is listed at $4,900. (There’s also a cropped version, which sells for $3,700.) The Prada site describes it as “borrowed from menswear” and “enhanced with a distressed effect.”

“Distressed effect” really stayed with me. Isn’t there something a little ironic about a $4,900 pre-worn-out jacket that is trying to mimic the type of coat that someone would actually distress over time while wearingÌęit, typically at work? I grew up in a small West Virginia town in the late nineties and early aughts. The men I knew wearing barn coats (Carhartts, specifically) definitely didn’t purchase them pre-distressed, and they certainly would have something to say about anyone who did.

But, according to Guy, something like the Prada canvas coat can really be seen as a celebration of the values associated with its original uses. From his point of view, all fashion choices are the result of the cultural values of the period from which they emerge.

Think about it: What other pop culture or trends might suggest that Western-adjacent, work-worn clothing would be having a moment right now that signals that culture is interested? Yellowstone is a great example. So are the insanely popular videos. Even in recent years. And what are the cultural values associated with ranching? Hard work, fortitude, honesty, independence, self reliance, connection to the land, and traditional masculinity are a few that come to mind. These values are also tied deeply to at least one version of the general American ethos.

Guy says that when different groups become culturally respected and reflect societal values, their style choices—even if they’re initially made for technical functionality—end up influencing the broader population. Consider the fact that Marmot, Patagonia, and the North Face all have their own version of the canvas barn coat. (I love my Marmot prairie jacket that I bought a few years ago, and the only time I’ve been on the prairie is when I drove through it.) And it’s likely that none of those more traditional outdoor brands started with a vision of creating aesthetic rancher-style workwear coats. They likely also didn’t have a core customer base of ranchers and farmers looking to upgrade their jackets. The brands created these garments to meet emerging consumer taste.

Still, does close to $5,000 for a pre-distressed coat make any sense? “The reason we celebrate these things, but then also create absurdly expensive versions is because
 individuals also seek status,” says Guy.

When there are enough versions of a beloved item to meet various individuals’ price points, one way to separate yourself from the rabble is to buy the really, really expensive one.

So ranching-farming-barn culture is having a moment. People are motivated to show status. I’m still good with my dad’s vintage Carhartt from the eighties, though.

$1,000 Fleeces

If people generally aspire to the life and values that go with the barn coat aesthetic—so much so that we’re now seeing super expensive luxury versions of the staple—how do thousand-dollar fleeces, like the ones , fit in?

The answer is pretty simple. The values associated with outdoorsy lifestyles are also aspirational for many, even if they don’t have imminent plans for a long thru-hike in their . And what are those values? Hopefully they’re familiar to anyone who considers themselves an outdoors lover: adventurousness, self discovery, environmental stewardship, physical prowess, community, self sufficiency, and technical expertise to name a few. These values, plus the promises of escape and leisure that a trip to the wilderness can provide, roll up into gorpcore style choices. Add in the basic human desire to flex status, and it makes sense why you wouldÌęend up with inaccessibly expensive all-wool fleece pullovers.

Hasn’t Outdoor Gear Always Been About Status?

My dad is a consummate outdoorsman. When I was young, he hiked and hunted. He taught me to identify North American trees and walk quietly through the woods. I have vivid memories of watching him and my uncles process a buck that they’d killed up a snowy run in West Virginia and then lugged back over the miles to a humble camp that served as their base. And they did all of it in Coleman gear.

It wasn’t until I went to college at an elite Southern university that Patagonia Synchillas entered my consciousness as a marker of status. The kids in the right sororities and fraternities all knew that you paired your Synchilla with Chubbies and artfully worn out Sperries. Those of us who didn’t come from quite the same backgrounds had to quickly make sense of the way core outdoor gear fit into the social hierarchy. I bought my first Patagonia fleece (not quite a Synchilla but close enough) at a steep discount as part of a bulk order my cross-country team made. I felt myself relax as I settled into its cozy heft on campus. Now, I think I own upwards of a dozen Patagonia, Marmot, North Face, and Cotopaxi fleeces and jackets. When I had the chance to signal my values and status, I seized it in the way Guy helped me understand.

Does that mean I’m going to start spending a grand on Austrian-made fleeces anytime soon? I’d like to say no, that’s a bridge too far, but consumer desire can be a funny thing. Even my own is a little bit unscrutable.

The post How the Outdoors Became the Ultimate Status Symbol appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

To fully embrace fall requires that we reengage with the neglected parts of our closet. Heavier coats. Rain boots. Beanies. Wool socks. These cooler temperatures and shorter days invite us to discover the art of layering again, too, and that requires clothing choices that extend to all parts of life—from going out on the town to our running life.Ìę

Now that we’ve officially made it to autumn, our team poked around to locate new trends and fall-inflected running gear so that you don’t have to. And what we found surprised us.Ìę

RELATED: These Fall Marathons Are Your Last Chance to Race Before Winter

We found rugby-inflected threads. We found hand-dyed hoodies. We found exciting new brand collaborations. We found tops and bottoms that meet a season of long shadows and fickle weather. As we know, fall days can be golden-warm while others—depending on where you live—can bring snow flurries.

With that in mind, here are five new fall running fashion pieces to check out and add to your autumnal arsenal.

The most recent collaboration between Puma and Ciele includes a cream and crimson palette with everything from shoes to accessories to clothes. One of our favorites in the collection are these trackpants. They are made with a combo of rainCELL and dryCELL—Puma’s wind and water resistance materials—and they are light, breathable, and flexible, perfect for those blustery, misty fall days, These tapered pants work just as great on a warmup as the days you’re putting in serious mileage.Ìę

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Vuori is known for their incredibly soft fabrics and elevated activewear styles. This pair of joggers is really a do-it-all pant. Comfortable enough for lounging and durable enough for running, hiking, and yoga, these stylish bottoms are as versatile as they are cute. It has a super-high waistband with a tie that helps keep them snug and slip-free. They are also a close fit without being a true legging, so they won’t have extra fabric to get in the way, but the looser fit is also comfy and not constricting.Ìę

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Not only does this jacket have a sleek and modern design, but it is also fully windproof and water resistant, which makes it a great choice for unpleasant weather. Super lightweight, it is also packable, and it fits into its own front pocket. This also has a pullover design which helps to keep water and air from slipping through a front zipper. While not oversized, it does hit below the hips, which helps keep out inclement weather and trap warmth where you need it most.Ìę

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Every fall running wardrobe needs a solid long sleeve. If you only have one, make it this one by Janji. It has flatlock seaming to prevent chafing and a raglan sleeve to allow for full range of motion. The material is highly breathable and super quick-drying, and it is cling-resistant even when wet. The material also offers 25 SPF protection and has a reflective Janji watermark on the front which helps keep you visible when running in low light.Ìę

While this may look more like something you would wear to a pumpkin patch than a run, it actually is designed to hold up on your longest runs. Inspired by the classic rugby shirt, this has a classic silhouette with a waffle texture. It is made with a merino wool blend which makes it moisture-wicking and temperature-regulating, a preventative to getting too hot or too cold. The waffle design is as much function as it is fashion—the textile pattern allows for air to pass through and keeps it breathable. Available in and styles.

This set is designed more for after the run than during. It is part of a limited collection by Ibex that is hand-dyed with natural dyes, and it is made from a blend of merino wool and cotton to give you a super plush, breathable sweat set. Because these pieces are hand-dyed, no two will be the same, so you are investing in a one of a kind piece. Because of the dying process, they run a tad small, so Ibex suggests you size up if you are unsure of fit.Ìę

RELATED: The Best Men’s Summer Running Gear of 2023

The post These 6 Fall Running Fashion TrendsÌęSurprised Us appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

Once upon a time, hats had a pretty simple function. The objective: to block the sun by any means necessary, style be damned (to be fair, this is still the credo of many faithful hat users). But as needs, desires, and manufacturing processes evolved, this allowed for highly specific use cases involving cutting-edge fabrics. Now, you can find hats for fishing, tennis, even . And, of course, hats for running.

Hats these days are designed to block the sun, create air flow, wick moisture, and look good too. Enter the five-panel.

Throw a rock at a running event and it is likely you’ll hit someone in a five-panel (note: We do not condone throwing rocks at running events). Of course, trends come and go and runners often glom onto a particular look before the newest trend comes along (see: sweatbands). But the five-panel hat has enjoyed a relatively long run at the top atop the heads of runners. Is this pervasiveness a passing phase, or has the five-panel hit that hallowed sweet spot between functionality and style?

The Origins of the Five-Panel Craze

“Paneling” in a hat refers to the different pieces of fabric that are stitched together to comprise the crown of the hat. So a six-panel hat has six triangular pieces that all join at the very top of the hat. A one-panel hat is formed from a single piece of fabric. A five-panel hat typically has panels that are shaped to fit on specific regions of the head, often creating a closer fit.

Where did the five-panel hat come from? Admittedly, its origins are muddy at best, with several corners of various industries claiming responsibility for the trend. . who would wear something akin to five-panel hats during their shift in the early 20th century. Despite the opaque sourcing of the hat’s earliest days, it’s widely accepted that streetwear culture brought five-panels into vogue , with skate and hip-hop circles and companies beginning to offer five-panels.

RELATED: How the Outdoors Influence High Fashion

Patagonia’s 1990 Duckbill Cap was also an in the space for outdoorsy folks who appreciated the crushable design and breathable mesh. In 2004, the popular New York City-based brand Supreme introduced a store in Los Angeles, and , which sent waves through the fashion industry. In 2014, the Canadian brand popped onto the scene with bright, multi-colored, lightweight, durable, UPF protective five-panels made specifically for running.

“Ciele definitely had a huge impact on the industry,” explained Sean Van Horn, a PR professional for outdoor brands, former specialty run store manager, and experienced mountain athlete. He’s watched the five-panel explosion unfold in real time from all angles of the sport, and he credits Ciele with really modernizing the look for the performance-oriented. However nothing could have predicted the current ubiquity of the style in the running world.

Five-Panel Hat: Functionality

What is it about the five-panel that appeals to runners? The fit is surely a factor. A shallower depth results in the hat staying secure, whether it is from a strong gust of wind or an unseen branch. But the real innovation is in the modularity. Antonieta Fornino, the design manager at , a brand that specializes in neck and head accessories including the Ìęmentioned the mix-and-match ability of this style as a huge technical advantage.

“These caps make it really easy to make whatever version you want, whether it is a mono-material or multi-material,” noted Fornino. “You can include different panels easily, like mesh or fabrics that are a little bit more breathable. You can do many things with this shape.”

On a typical six-panel baseball cap with matching triangles, it would be strange to have some made of mesh and others made of nylon, for example. There would be no rhyme or reason to such a design, as the triangles are all equally spaced around the head from the top down. But a five-panel offers a front-to-back flow that can be reconfigured depending on what one wants to achieve. The front panel can be made of a moisture-wicking material while the side panels can be made of mesh or feature laser cut holes to promote airflow. The horizontal symmetry contributes to the functionality.

The brim, too, allows for creative design choices. As Fornino and her team worked on a new five-panel Speed Cap design to launch in the Spring of 2024, they opted to go with a stiffer and slightly curved brim based on feedback from runners. The balance between a packable brim and one that will remain secure at speed is a matter of preference. Patagonia’s Duckbill is fairly floppy, whereas operates at a happy medium, with modest pliability that tends to keep its shape.

The stretch nylon front panel on the Global Hat combined with the mesh paneling above and on the sides makes it a super breathable option for a wide variety of pursuits. I asked Jedd Rose, the cofounder and president of Topo Designs, about the thought process behind the brim design.

“We wanted to make sure that it was lightweight, breathable, and packable and could work for the outdoors as well as travel,” said Rose. “So we ended up combining a few fabrics and switched the more traditional bill material to a flexible yet sturdy foam that can be packed but still holds its shape well.”

Like Fornino, Rose appreciates the multifaceted nature of the five-panel. “It lends itself to be versatile and adapt to multiple fabrics and materials,” said Rose, “so it’s easy to mix and match, and go heavier or lighter depending on the model.”

Five-Panel Hat: Style

A hat is a public display of identity; it’s often the first thing you notice about someone. All of the technical advances in the world wouldn’t lead to a five-panel hat takeover unless they also happen to give off the vibe that the wearer intends. If you want to convey to the world that you love to run but your hat is telling people “I’m on safari,” that might not be the optimal style choice.

“We saw a lot of fashion-forward runners sporting Ciele hats at first, and then it spread out to the broader industry,” explained Van Horn. “These hats help to signify that you are a runner. If someone is wearing a Ciele hat you know that they pound the pavement.”

Ciele has also brought variety into its line-up so that runners don’t have to go with a one-size-fits-all approach. For my small noggin, the ALZcap, with a 56.5 centimeter circumference and extra low profile, is perfect, though one has to be willing to spend a pretty penny on headwear. The typical Ciele hat runs between $40 to $55, but race caps in the Elite line will run you up to $85.

For a cap intended for one activity, that is quite an investment, but it is no coincidence that the popularity of five-panels has also dovetailed with . It turns out running hats can also be used for every activity, and a steeper price point can be more palatable if, like me, you wear a hat every day.

“The outdoor sports space has never been more willing to blur the lines between traditional and trend and lifestyle, so it makes sense that the five-panel hat sits perfectly in that intersection,” said Rose. “The fact that it began as an outdoor silhouette and then became a go-to in the lifestyle and street space makes it a perfect trend right now.”

The Future Is Circularity

Of course, when something is a trend, that means the next iteration could be right around the corner. Bucket hats have increasingly shown up in the trail and ultra scene, though they haven’t quite disrupted the five-panel market. The visor has always been a steady presence on the running scene, too, with a temporary spike after #teamvisor U.S.A. won last year’s ÌęVisors certainly have performance chops, even though it can make the wearer look like a college football coach.

When I asked Fornino what she sees as next, she pointed not to design but to the production chain. “Something I am sure is going to happen is that sustainability is going to change headwear,” said Fornino. “It’s not only about having a recycled visor material, it’s about looking at how we can simplify the structure and the ingredients that are used in a cap so that they can be easily reusable and recyclable and have circularity at the heart.”

RELATED: The Best Summer Running Gear Made of Recycled Materials

For those seeking a recyclable running hat, Swedish brand Houdini has centered circularity in its production, and the and caps, though not five-panels, have technical chops and won’t end up in any landfills.

When I asked Rose about what is next, he hinted at some even lighter and more packable designs in Topo’s future, but also paused to appreciate the classics. “At the end of the day, it’s hard to beat that old bait shop cap that’s been floating in the trunk for ages, so those are always an inspiration to us as well,” said Rose. You heard it here first: the bait shop inspired, circularly-designed five-panel hat might just be the next big thing in performance headwear.

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It’s not often that triathletes, social media influencers, sneakerheads, and service workers have a similar fashion interest. But one brand born in the French Alps that fuses performance and a distinct aesthetic point of view seems to have united people all over the world—to the extent that it’s quickly pacing towardsÌęÌęin sales this year alone.

Since its launch in 2009, Hoka has soared from the seed of an idea—a shoe for easier, more buoyant downhill running—to what’sÌęÌęthe sneaker market’s fastest-growing brand. But was it word of mouth, clever marketing, an effective celebrity seeding strategy, or just a happy (and very commercially successful) accident?

The anti-minimalist shoe

Let’s take a step back to figure that out. Taking their cue from the Maori phrase “flying over the earth,” former Salomon employees Nicolas Mermoud and Jean-Luc Diard founded Hoka One One (pronouncedÌęon-ay on-ay, as opposed to the number) to design a shoe with a cushioned, outsize sole that would mimic the feeling of bouncing on air. Compared to traditional running shoes, their models had thick, added cushion and a wider sole, used lighter materials, and featured a rocker shape in the midsole under the toe. This, they posited, would solve a universal problem for all runners: maintaining momentum.

“Jean-Luc is a visionary,” says Adam Chase, a runner and triathlete who has reviewed 1,000s of running shoes, says. “The first iteration was way ahead of its time. It was like a marshmallow shoe, and at first everyone laughed. But the founders really saw where the ball was going to go.”

Chase contextualizes that back around 2009 and 2010, the barefoot running movement was all the rage, largely led by Christopher McDougall’s best-selling bookÌęBorn To Run,Ìęwhich encouraged runners to feel the ground beneath them.

“Most of us don’t live in the mountains, we live on concrete,” Chase counteracts. “There was bound to be a pendulum swing [away from the minimalist ‘five finger shoes’] and Hoka really led this charge back to the maximization of running.”

But Hoka’s capture of the market wasn’t simply an overnight success. Erika Gabrielli, Senior Director of Global Integrated Marketing at the company, recalls that in August 2009, the founders were at UTMB in Chamonix, using the race as the first litmus test as to whether the shoe would be a hit.

“It wasn’t so much of a runaway success,” Gabrielli says. “But there was an early fan base, [our] evangelists, thanks to the unique and distinct design. It was a slow burn, but word of mouth in the trail running community and adoption by elite athletes [helped.] Some ultra trail runner friends of the brand wore the shoe and placed first and second in races in 2009, and from there it really started to grow.”

The first Hoka shoe hit stores in 2010. Around this time, the founders themselves were the ones actually on the ground, trying to land accounts at specialty running stores in the U.S. At a trade show that year, the Boulder Running Company bit and placed an order of 770 sneakers. “It was such an influential account,” Gabrielli says. “In terms of exposure and scaling. It evoked a feeling in our founders and they started experimenting about adding other types of shoes.”

The triathlete effect

From those 770 pairs, the super-cushy shoes became millions. Within just a few years, it was estimatedÌęwere wearing Hokas. Triathletes (and theirÌęof new tech) soon followed. By 2017, Hoka was the top shoe at the annualÌę, delivering a knockout to traditional favorites like Asics and Saucony.

“It’s a pragmatic shoe for a triathlon,” says Chase. “Runners need a good recovery shoe, and Hoka epitomizes it. It’s extremely cushioned, but it’s not just softness and lightness, there’s also rebound. In many ways, it’s the perfect shoe for getting on your feet to run after biking 112 miles, because you’re kind of shot. You need to get your legs moving, and avoid the ‘Ironman shuffle.’”

Hoka devotees became almost evangelical about the shoes, recommending a pair to everyone from runners who quit the sport due to knee problems to workers who spend all day on their feet.

“Postal workers on their feet yearn for something like this,” Chase adds. “Or chefs on rubber mats. It’s a counteraction to having to stand all day on a hard surface. They really are made for recovery.”

Hoka leaned into that comfort-for-all identity. Instead of doubling down on its identity as a running shoe, it expanded its marketing to brand itself as a shoe for all. During the COVID-19 pandemic, for example, the brand marketed to healthcare professionals, noting the incredible physical demands of their jobs.

Nurses travel over 3 miles through the course of each 12 hour shift. That’s twice the step count of an average adult, and more than a marathon every month. Thank you for being there for us, now and always.

— HOKA (@hoka)

Hoka still is, of course, a running shoe company. But Jean-Luc Diard’s innate innovation has created something much bigger than running, says Chase.

“The French way of thinking is very different and unorthodox by American corporate standards. He’s able to think differently, and way ahead, which has allowed them to be ingenious. I mean, you can see his work now at Deckers X Lab. The company is cooking up some really impressive recovery shoes which look like extreme, even more pronounced versions of Hokas.”

Running, yes, but make it fashion

Speaking of extreme soles, it’s not too surprising to track the popularity of Hokas amongst a fashion-conscious crowd, as the 2010s were undoubtedly the era of the “dad shoe.” From the surprising proliferation of Crocs and Birkenstocks to luxury brands like Chanel, Gucci, and Prada selling $1,000+ tourist-style sandals, and Balenciaga and Yeezy’s chokehold on the sneaker market, all eyes were on clunky, chunky styles. Hoka entered the lifestyle market in 2021, adding colorful suede fashion versions of its popular Clifton and Bondi styles.

One foolproof way for an emerging brand to gain mass attention is to collaborate with someone established in another space. Via partnerships with the likes of Moncler, Free People Movement, Engineered Garments, and J.L-A.L_, Hoka was able to “connect to culture” and “extend its reach,” per Gabrielli.

To get a sense of what that attention and reach looks like, consider that the #Hoka has 377.8 million views on TikTok alone, while #Hoka and #HokaOneOne has been tagged in almost 2.5 million grid posts on Instagram.

“I think the brand has always taken a strategic approach in terms of collaborations,” Gabrielli says. “We’re still relatively small, and that’s by design, but we know there’s opportunity in the fashion space. We see where we can find a partnership that helps us do things right that we can’t do on our own. We want to see where we can connect and be creative, defy convention, and do something that hasn’t been done before.”

She adds, “We’re still performance-based; that’s where the special mashup is. [Fashion-focused partners] can help to take that performance and position it in new and different ways without sacrificing innovation. One thing we’ve always found to be a universal truth is that everyone is looking for newness, and looking for comfort.”

Another thing people are always looking to? Celebrity. Among the influential figures who’ve been spotted in Hoka are Hollywood heavyweights (Cameron Diaz, Reese Witherspoon, Gwyneth Paltrow, Adam Sandler), supermodels (Emily Ratajkowski, Bella Hadid, Winnie Harlow), and pop stars (Britney Spears).

“It’s a bit of both,” Gabrielli offers when asked if Hoka actively seeds its product amongst celebrities. “We have ambassadors, athletes, and influencers, but we also see a lot of organic adoption—whether that’s amongst the average joe or celebrities. [An exciting moment] recently was Harry Styles, who we saw working out in Hoka.”

Gabrielli also credits community events, social media, and the brand’s company values (philanthropy, sustainability) for furthering the message and appeal. But when it comes down to the overall rapid success, it does appear to be organic word of mouth that has propelled these big-soled shoes to new heights.

Ìęis a New York City-based fashion influencer who has been wearing Hoka for about a year. “I first heard about the brand from my photographer, Madison White, who also doubles as my running buddy. She was wearing a pair on one of our runs together and I thought they looked really cool. She told me they were insanely comfortable and I was sold.”

Yanni, who calls herself a longtime intermediate and leisurely runner, is a fan of the cushion and support. “I have high arches so I would have to purchase inserts for my running shoes to get the support I needed, but now I don’t have to worry about that.”

As for the style, which she says is important to her as someone who eats, sleeps, and breathes fashion, she says she loves how “different” and “unique and fun” the design is from other offerings on the market: “The platform looks like a wave and the colorways they offer feel very tropical.”

“Working in the fashion industry for almost ten years now, I am very particular about what shoes I wear on any given day. Running shoes are no exception—they need to be aesthetically pleasing too,” she laughs. “My favorite thing about wearing Hoka is that style and comfort don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”

RELATED:Ìę

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, the late German fashion designer Karl Lagerfeld was “a sort of vampire, taking the blood of other people.” Known for his decades-long tenure at the helm of Chanel, the white ponytailed creative director took jabs at plus-size women and the #MeToo movement, photographed a model in blackface and yellowface in the distant year of 2010, and erroneously stated that Germany’s acceptance of Syrian refugees was an affront to Holocaust victims.

And yet, Lagerfeld is at the center of the Met Gala on Monday, May 1, a fundraising benefit known as “fashion’s biggest night out.” This year’s Costume Institute exhibition, “Karl Lagerfeld: A Line of Beauty,” will celebrate the icon’s life and work, with invitees simply asked to dress “in honor of Karl” (once they’ve paid for their $50,000 ticket, that is).

If you were thinking that șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű was more interested in Gore-Tex than haute couture, think again. It’s been at least six years since “”—a trend marked by sporty, utilitarian outdoor wear—first hit the scene, and șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű editors have been wearing Salomon sneakers and puffers since long before those brands started showing up on runways. And so, in recognition of this evening’s festivities, we scraped the bowels of the internet for the most outrageous outdoor gear produced under Lagerfeld’s regime.

An $11,000 Fly Fishing Rod

The year is 2008. The world is deep in the throes of the Great Recession. And Chanel is selling a fly-fishing rod for the low, low price of around $11,456 USD. Fit for the “ponciest angler on the planet,” the rod comes with “a set of meticulously tied, monochrome Chanel flies, complete with the famous ‘double C’ logo on the gossamer wings,” according to . In addition to being packaged in “a rather fetching, quilted black leather box,” this piece of gear shares a history with the brand’s eponymous founder and Coco Chanel, who honed her angling skills while dating the Duke of Westminster Hugh Grosvenor in the 1920s.

A $12,000 Bicycle

Also in ’08, Chanel rolled out a limited-edition bike as part of its fall Sport Collection, at the time. The $12,000 ride reportedly came with “a signature-quilted bike bag on the rear and a mega-comfy seat for easy riding.” Jennifer Aniston reportedly received the bike as a gift from Friends co-star Courteney Cox. “Jennifer said she wanted to start bike riding because it’s such good exercise. So Courteney sent her the new, ultra-chic Chanel bicycle,” an alleged source close to the star told the celebrity gossip site . “Courteney only sent Jennifer the bike two weeks ago but she already loves it! She goes out riding all the time.”

That $1,325 Boomerang

In 2017, Chanel came under fire for selling a black wood-and-resin boomerang, emblazoned with a double C logo. The brand was accused of appropriating Aboriginal culture. “Landmark copyright litigation was brought in the 1990s over rip-offs and copycats of Indigenous art, but further reform is needed,” Queensland University professor Matthew Rimmer, an intellectual property expert, told the . “As a good corporate citizen, Chanel should apologize fully, withdraw the boomerang from sale, and make appropriate reparations to Australian Indigenous communities.” In a statement at the time, a Chanel spokesperson said the company “regret[ted] that some may have felt offended.”

The post Karl Lagerfeld’s Most Outrageous Outdoor Gear Designs appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

When it comes to running apparel, companies are constantly being tasked with balancing function and form to ensure a level of performance with a certain aesthetic.

Justine FĂ©dronic, 31, is an Olympian with family roots in France and Martinique, currently living in Seattle, Washington, and she sees running fashion as capable of existing in dialogue with performance, culture, environmental responsibility, and style.

This spring, FĂ©dronic teamed up with Janji to create the , part of an initiative by the sportswear company to collaborate with artists for each seasonal launch. FĂ©dronic’s contribution is unique, though, as she’s reached the highest levels of the sport and is now expressing her love for running while empowering local artists to help tell the story of her family’s heritage.

Olympic Dreams

FĂ©dronic was born in Germany, in 1991, before her family moved to France. Her father is from the island of Martinique, an overseas region of France located in the eastern Caribbean, while her mother is from Hungary. Along with her three brothers, the family would visit their grandfather’s farm in Martinique, oscillating between Paris, Hungary, and Martinique before immigrating to the U.S. and settling in California’s San Francisco Bay Area.

By attending school in the U.S. and returning to Europe every summer, FĂ©dronic’s connection to home was in constant flux. “My brothers and I became cultural chameleons,” she said. “We didn’t speak English, and we were a continent away from our cultures and communities. One of the consistent memories from my childhood was feeling otherness.”

Some of FĂ©dronic’s earliest memories were running on the playground with American kids. “Running gave me a freedom of expression and connection, an emotional outlet.” In middle school, she excelled in track and field, but it was high school she fell in love with cross-country. “I’ve always been hyper-competitive,” she said. “My mama told me that it was hard to watch me race because of the pain I was willing to put myself through.”

FĂ©dronic would eventually run cross-country and track for Stanford University, becoming a five-time All-American, while competing internationally for France every summer. She finished third in the 800-meter at the 2013 NCAA Championships and, one year later, took the bronze medal at the European U-23 Championships. In 2016, she qualified for the Olympics in the 800, finishing second at the French Olympic Trials, but sustained another knee injury for the Olympics in Rio.

“My Olympic experience was bittersweet,” she said. “I was in the best shape of my life leading up to that injury, but didn’t get to capitalize on it on the stage I had dreamed about for much of my career.”

In March 2020, FĂ©dronic retired from elite running. She’d fallen out of love for the sport and needed to step back and take a full assessment of her intentions, to reconnect with the type of running she loved most, the “playful, liberating kind.”

Where Culture Meets Creativity

Following FĂ©dronic’s experience at the Olympics, she embarked on a journey to remember the why of her running.

“Running formed who I am in many ways, and I wanted to look forward to a lifetime of joyful movement,” she said. “I’m lucky to have a compassionate, diverse, and strong community that encouraged me to be curious.”

That curiosity led her to cultivating an art practice and connecting with Janji, a company known for commitments to ethically and environmentally conscious running products. Founded on the mission , 100 percent of their primary fabrics are now certified bluesign (the gold standard in meeting environmental and social criteria for manufacturing sustainable products) and OEKO-TEX (a certification for products that have been tested for harmful substances). By the end of 2023, Janji will be using 100 percent recycled synthetic polyester.

, and FĂ©dronic is their first Arts and Culture Coordinator. Together, she developed a series of cyanotypes—a printing process using ultraviolet light to take a “photograph” of an object and then make patterns with them. FĂ©dronic traveled to Martinique to select her favorite floral expressions, inspired by memories of playing on her grandfather’s farm. She used a laser cut wood approach to cut them out of wood, layer each with watercolor painted paper, and cyanotype them. Janji then translated the designs into performance wear.

“Justine’s an absolute gem to work with,” said Janji cofounder Dave Spandorfer. “She brings the passion of Martinique and the French West Indies to this line, and we hope her work will inspire more people to travel there, and that her work will showcase other talented artists from the islands.”

FĂ©dronic also wished to highlight local artists from the French Caribbean, to give them a voice. Using her networks, she hosted an open call for art and received overwhelming interest in the collaboration. Eventually, they chose six artists to contribute to the collection.

Martinique is known as “Madinina,” or Island of Flowers, because of the diversity and vibrancy of the flora. The island features 470 tree species and 77 different species of orchids. “We wanted to capture this resilient energy and create clothes that transport you on your daily run, a floral camouflage. The designs represent a fundamental yet delicate relationship between humans and nature, celebrating the vibrancy of the French West Indies,” she said, while noting that this area also has a difficult history of colonialism and survival.

Two percent of this collection’s proceeds will go towards ecological restoration efforts on the islands of Martinique and Guadeloupe, including chlordecone remediation, an insecticide introduced by chemists in North America. Chlordecone had been used on the island’s banana plantations up until 2005, classified by the World Health Organization as an endocrine disruptor. The carcinogen is still found in the soil and water, and 93 percent of Martinicans have traces of it in their blood. The incidence of prostate cancer is higher there than anywhere else in the world.

“My family has suffered from the consequences of these political decisions, and I felt driven to use my privilege and platform to address the issue in some way,” she said.

Jess Barnard is a photographer and friend of FĂ©dronic, and she accompanied her in Martinique for the French West Indies Project. “It takes an immense amount of vulnerability and courage to share your story as you live and process it, to reconnect to one’s roots, identity, and family,” said Barnard. “All while contributing as an artist, assistant producer, and model, to take on the opportunity to elevate a place so close to your heart and do it justice.”

Indeed, FĂ©dronic has done just that. After reaching to the highest levels of the sport, this Olympian has reached back into her family lineage, and the landscape that shaped her, to inspire a creative vision for a healthier and more honest future.

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One of the most formidable villains of my childhood was Parent Trap baddie Meredith Blake. When Meredith joins our more down-to-earth California heroes (played by Lindsay Lohan and Lindsay Lohan, respectively) on a third-act camping trip, she dons a spandex outfit with a little zip-up sports bra, matching leggings, and a comically large Evian water bottle.

Meredith, we’re made to believe, looks stupid! Her outfit shows she is all wrong for Nick Parker. In the end, our girls, clad in denim and flannel, push her air mattress—while she’s still sleeping on it—out onto the lake.

The lesson? Caring what you wear in the backcountry woods is dumb. If only it were that simple.

Emma Gatewood, the first recorded woman to thru-hike the Appalachian Trail solo, famously conducted her treks with little more than a pair of converse and a shower curtain that she used as a tarp. Pictures of “Grandma Gatewood” show her in slacks and a visor, with what looks like a laundry bag thrown over her shoulder. She’s like your great aunt on her way to play mini golf.

Unfortunately, I am more of a Meredith Blake than an Emma Gatewood. It’s so dorky to admit you want to look hot, and even more embarrassing to admit that you want to look cool, while sleeping on the ground or hauling your sweaty body up the side of a mountain. Guilty as charged.

Unlike many of my midwestern friends, I did not grow up camping, hiking, or mountain biking. My grandfather was a geographer, and our vacations were spent driving to highway overlooks to observe rocky outcrops eroded by ancient glaciers. This did teach me how to read maps and use a compass, but at the end of the day we went back to a Holiday Inn so my sister and I could enjoy an indoor pool and tiny, free boxes of fruit loops.

I never camped seriously until I moved to rural Indiana and met my husband. He knows everything—he has backpacked solo since high school. He is the kind of person who can light a fire in 40 seconds and know which identical-seeming mushrooms will taste great in a frying pan and which will probably kill you.

On our first camping trip together, I’m almost certain I wore Frye motorcycle boots. I’m 100 percent sure I was very wet, cold, and miserable. It was clear I was out of my element. But even still, I knew that I was surrounded by tremendous beauty.

I looked at the tawny, chilled-out men and women who populated my extended social orbit. People with dogs (usually working breeds, who could keep up with their adventures). People who owned tents, wore hiking boots that had been re-laced and re-soled, who definitely knew what to do when they entered a climbing gym. I remember watching, impressed, as a friend unpack her stocked camping mess kit, each lightweight dish popping out of the next like a nesting doll.

There seemed to be a correct way to partake in this, but I suspected it was also dumb to care about it. So I pretended to know what I was doing—that I was part of the culture.

Like every sport or subculture, hiking and camping have their totems, signifiers, and uniforms. I was a high school cross-country runner, and I remember vividly when a new runner joined the team and wore tall socks, instead of the little invisible ankle socks that every other team member wore. Everyone on the team noticed his tall socks.

I still have a screenshot saved in my camera roll of an Instagram post from an acquaintance who regularly camped out west. Before a kayaking trip, she had taken a picture of her gear laid flat, like a tablescape from a Real Simple catalog. I studied it like a handbook. A homespun quilt. A tiny hammock that packed into a satisfying pouch the size of a paperback book. A tie-dyed sports bra. A beat-up nylon duffel.

I wanted to be the kind of person who owned those things—and by the transitive property—a person who belonged in the outdoors with people like her.

Soon after I graduated, I got a real job and had, for the first time, enough money to buy my own gear. I took note of outdoor lifestyle signifiers: the telltale white slash across a tanned foot from a Teva sandal. The Nalgene water bottle with the stickers and, for some reason, duct tape fastened around the bottom.

Some of this is marketing nonsense. But also: Nalgene water bottles are fantastic, and they make perfect cocktail shakers in a pinch. My Keen hiking boots got me to the top of mountains better than my Fryes ever could. I will forever be an ardent lover of the Teva Hurricane XLTs.

And I have to admit that I liked looking the part. As I became more of a lover of the outdoors, I relished wearing that love on my body. Look at me! Look at the kind of person I am!

As I built my collection, I became more competent and self-sufficient. I learned to stake a tent, not to panic when I found myself off a known trail or when storms flooded my campsite, and how to build a fire without crying in frustration. I learned nothing tastes better than Easy Mac after 12 hours of paddling, and that if I walked far enough into the woods by myself, I could fall into a trance that drained all thoughts from my head.

When my husband and I were hiking near the Fiery Gizzard Trail in Tennessee, we hooked up with fellow campers at the next site. As we sat around the fire, I realized, with fascination, that we were all wearing the same outfit: a Patagonia fleece, leggings, a Petzl headlamp, and Keens. Whereas many years ago I would have beamed with pride, I inwardly shrugged. Of course this is what we’re wearing! It’s the uniform.

In between then and now, I’ve camped and hiked dozens of times. I’ve probably built my own version of that ideal camping duffel, but I’ve also completed a gravel bike ride in shower slides, a bad hike in Lululemon leggings I had to hold up with one hand, and a camping trip gone awry where I was forced to sleep in street clothes in the front seat of my car. If you love the outdoors, nature always finds you, even on days when you’re not wearing the correct outfit.

Last summer, a group of friends and I tramped through the Missouri Ozarks on the hottest day of the year, swimming in the granite shut-ins and shedding gallons of sweat. It was the last hike I did with our dog Ginger before she died, and I’ll always remember her big paws paddling her slowly through the cold water.

At the end of the day, finally back at the secluded campsite, I took what I call a “spigot shower.” When no proper bathroom is available, I take my largest, most ridiculous bottle, dump water over my head, soap up, and dump it again.

As the sun set and the stars of the Summer Triangle appeared in the sky, I felt the water, still warm from the ground. Smoke rose from wood fires, the cicadas screamed. I was outdoors, and I wasn’t wearing anything at all.

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A golden chain-link water bottle holder, carried by the Beverly Hills princesses in Clueless. Miuccia Prada, taking a bow after a fashion show in Teva sandals. A tent emblazoned with the house’s logo, yours for just $3,500 on Gucci dot com!

For decades, high-fashion designers have dressed their models up in gorpy drag and sent them down runways, wearing items that are sometimes gorgeous (Gucci and The North Face’s ), sometimes silly (Proenza Schouler’sretailed for three figures) and sometimes gorgeously silly (Jacquemus’ 2021, which paired tiny, striped spandex shorts for men with a tennis-ball green vest, blue oxford and hiking boots).

For serious climbers or backpackers, the utilitarian, technical clothes that comprise “outdoor fashion” mean they’ll stay dry, warm, and blister-free on their adventures. For other consumers, these clothes telegraph luxury, artistry, and sexiness.

“Fashion has always had an interest in dipping into outdoor gear,” said Jessica Glasscock, an adjunct professor at Parsons School of Design and the author of several books on fashion and culture. “It’s really recognizing certain outdoor endeavors as acts of leisure as much as acts of sports, and therefore sort of seeing it as status activity. Fashion typically is interested in hooking into the status of having the time and wherewithal to adventure.”

The first outdoorsy high-fashion design that comes to mind for Glasscock is the so-called safari suit. The lightweight jacket-and-pants combo that became popular in the mid-20th century was based on European military uniforms worn by colonizing British and German troops in warm climates in the late 1800s and early 1900s. Usually made in lightweight fabric and featuring epaulets and pockets across the front, the getup was sometimes accessorized with a rifle and a pith helmet. Well-to-do Europeans and Americans began to wear the suits on “safari” trips to African countries, and the outfit became synonymous with famous gentlemen adventurers, including Ernest Hemingway.

A generation later, Glasscock said, the safari suit was updated for women. A from 1969 shows the French designer flanked by very groovy looking it-girls Betty Catroux and Loulou de la Falaise, all three wearing sexy versions of the khaki suits. Betty pairs her lace-up safari minidress with a silk scarf and belt slung across her tiny hips and piratey leather thigh-high boots. These outfits are not for camping.

“Fashion loves contradictions, and it loves tension, and part of that comes out of taking signifiers of one thing and putting them on unlikely people or in unlikely places,” said Robin Givhan, senior critic-at-large for the Washington Post. “And so the idea of taking a fabric that is associated with rugged outdoorsmanship, and using that to create something precious
.it’s sort of the bread and butter of fashion.”

Versions of the safari jacket are still popular on the runway and at the mall, although politically-savvy brands have leaned away from the garment’s colonialist roots by calling items “field jackets” and pairing them with jeans instead of pith helmets.

Other iterations of outdoors-influenced fashion are not so clear-cut. One of the most enduring examples of the aesthetic is Prada’s use of nylon—a durable, unsexy fabric, which the outdoor industry often uses for everything from running shorts to chalk bags—to make covetable handbags and backpacks, all outfitted with the house’s telltale triangle logo.

“We’re going to take this concept that’s associated with utility, with usefulness, with practicality, also with this sort of privilege of being able to get out and about in a certain way,” said Glasscock. “But we’re going to make it a product and we’re going to make it more appealing for an audience that might be engaged with that lifestyle, but also wants to speak of themselves as a fashion-label person.”

Recently, high-fashion houses, including Jil Sander, have made the influence of outdoor recreation even more explicit by partnering with brands like Arc’teryx, said Adrian Verin, a sports and lifestyle expert at Carlin Creative, a France-based trend bureau.

Teaming up makes sense as luxury brands take more inspiration from streetwear, he said. The lines between fancier clothes and outdoors clothes are blurring as fashionable young people pair Patagonia or Arc’teryx with pieces from Louis Vuitton or Balenciaga.

“People who used to wear outdoor clothes or accessories were like some kind of nerds, just kinds of people that don’t really look stylish,” he said (his French accent made this sound less harsh). But “many people now use clothes that you can wear in the city, that can be worn at home, that can be worn in the outdoors. Something really modular.”

Perhaps the partnership that’s attracted the most attention is Gucci’s collaboration with The North Face. The brands’ first collection (introduced in late 2020), was so successful that the two rolled out a second in late 2021. In promotional pictures for the line (prices average in the mid-four figures), a model wearing a pink ski jacket and a corset climbs up loose gravel at the bank of an Icelandic river, white Lillies in one hand, a $3000 black leather Jackie handbag in the other.

Are people wearing these items to camp? It’s hard to say, says Givhan. Maybe in Aspen? “I think that every time I’m on the Metro and I see someone with some sort of an industrial sports sack kind of backpack on and some big metal water bottle,” she said. “I’m just like, where are you going?”

Some people savaged the Gucci and Jil Sander collabs. One online called a huge Gucci mud-brown puffy jacket “the Uncle Buck special,” and some (rightfully) a knee-length Jil Sander ski jacket was not really that practical for skiing, actually, thanks to its long length.

But the timing for the collaborations makes sense, said Verin. The two high-profile partnerships launched about a year after COVID-19 brought much of the world to a standstill. After all, during a pandemic, health and freedom could be considered the ultimate luxury.

“I think that the new luxury is the capacity to go outside, and to move in an environment that’s safe,” he said. “During the lockdown, many people were dreaming of going into the mountains or going into the great outdoors.”

Abigail Tananbaum, the founder and creator of the outdoor-gear brand MATEK, which makes cozy base layers and balaclavas for men, women, and children, said the aesthetic telegraphs not only leisure but also ability and expertise.

And, as anyone who has admired the elegant way a lightweight rain jacket folds into a tiny pouch, or marveled at how a hiking boot keeps an icy stream from saturating wool socks knows 
 outdoors gear is just plain nifty. “That’s why I wanted to make a turtleneck that doesn’t have to stay in my ski gear closet, it can be in my normal closet,” she said. “’I’m definitely inspired by both [fashion and function], but definitely the function of outdoor gear is the most important. I think it’s almost a good influence on fashion, when it’s becoming a little more functional.”

The beauty of nature is automatically grafted onto outdoorsy clothes by association, Tananbaum said. When one wears a ski jacket, even when simply traveling on the train, they can picture themselves atop a mountain ski lift, poised to race down a hill blanketed in crisp snow and darkly lush fir trees. “You can’t have a backdrop of a mountain and have the subject in the photo not look incredibly chic,” she said. “I don’t even know if I answered your question, I’m sorry! I’m just in Colorado looking at a mountain so I’m a little distracted.”

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