Sporty Spice style: fashion takes the field

Tiger-print zoobas, velcro hi-tops, and Chuck Taylors do battle in the arena of sports fashion

By Jamil Moen

There were myriad things to watch during the Super Bowl other than the actual game. No one was watching the greatest sporting event of the year for sports. What a plebian enterprise that would be! The average American remained spellbound during the commercials and got up for some chips when that pesky sporting event appeared onscreen.

Yet this average American was sinking his teeth into something far meatier than the players on the field. Yes, children, your intrepid reporter/glamorpuss is once again taking the opportunity to turn a previously wholesome family event into some bitches about stitches.

Watching the big game from a style perspective was more stomach-churning than the goulash of pizza and beer in most people's stomachs. Cher, unfortunately, set the fashion tone from the very beginning. She must have thought she was "singing" the national anthem for the Super Bowl-o-rama. But I think even the nacho-loving, red-and-green-shoe-wearing, glove-powdering set would raise staunch objections to Princess Plasticface's togs--a sparkling, Pepto-Bismol-colored bolero and trailer-glam jeans.

Things got progressively worse from that point on. The looks at the Super Bowl halftime extravaganza elicited more tsk, tsk, tsks than a Wisk commercial. Savion Glover of Bring in da' Noise, Bring in da' Funk fame should bring in something other than last night's jammies to a world-wide event. I also feel like people are taking advantage of poor Stevie Wonder. Or did he just have "AFRICAN-AMERICAN" emblazoned in three-foot neon yellow print on his jacket's arms so they wouldn't confuse his suit with Big Bad Voodoo Daddy's? ("No, those are the white boys' suits. This one's yours, Stevie. Trust me.") Gloria Estefan rose miraculously from this fashion wreckage with her dignity intact. Her sleek, chic, black, satin Dolce and Gabbana corset dress and shawl armed her with more spice than the perennially ruffled Charo.

And what about those slices of apple pie, those representations of the American spirit, our pride and joy--the players? Don't worry. They, too, got screwed in the game of Super Bowl style. The Denver Broncos "won" hideous championship caps (taupe with jumbled lettering and a stripe of what looked like tanned naugahyde coming down the front) and championship shirts (the usual overbearing print with a huge football player swimming through what could either be a stadium or Monet's vomit on the front). The Atlanta Falcons should be grateful for their sucky performance.

The ass-wide schism

After this interminable description of fashion mayhem at our most celebrated athletic event--which I have now christened the Super Troll--one must be convinced that the schism between sports and fashion is as wide as Jennifer Lopez's derrière. But this is not the case. Sports and fashion, in fact, are two worlds that have become increasingly interwoven in recent years. This does not just mean that more athletes are sleeping with models. These formerly distinct realms have collided through their key actors: the athletes, the designers, the public, and money. Whether it is through players with million-dollar clothing-endorsement contracts or designers with hundred-dollar sweatjackets, the evidence of cross-pollination is unavoidably clear.

This relationship between style and sports works on another level as well. Athletes have changed the face of fashion within their own worlds and affected street style for millions of consumers each year. The looks on the court and on the field have changed. Sports uniforms and the way players present themselves have undergone distinct transformations over the years.

Take basketball. In the beginning, everyone was white and dorky. The jerseys were pristine white and the lettering staid and plain. The shorts were just a little too short and the socks were way too high. The fashion impact of one man was seen everywhere, on and off the court. Chuck Taylor's Converse All-Stars were on the feet of every player and in the closet of most Americans. This star-in-a-circle, cap-toed creation served as one of the first powerhouses of style both inside and outside the athletic world and reigned for years.

There have been other changes, many promulgated by players' personal styles, which have changed the image of basketball and the silhouette of the average player. As more outstanding players from diverse, urban areas filled the NBA, their street style became prominent in both the game and fashion. Jerseys became baggier, shorts grew longer, and socks shrank away from the calves. Street fashion has both created and reflected to-day's basketball player.

Personal looks have also become a large part of style in basketball today. While I would hesitate to attribute anything to quasi-queen Dennis Rodman other than abysmal skills at applying eyeshadow, his stylistic influence is painfully apparent. With his AAA road map of epidermis, Rodman has most definitely been the wind beneath the tattooed wings of almost every B-baller playing the game.

The Air has flair

Players of all sports have been influential not only within their own games, but also on styles and consumer cultures of the everyday world. In other words, no analysis of athletics and fashion could claim to be complete without writing a friggin' book on Michael Jordan.

The Air Jordan shoe has been the most tangible link between fashion and sports for most Americans today. This piece of footwear even has its own superstar spokesmodel--His Airness, naturally. It is a shoe that, just like fashion, changes every season, from gaudy and colorful to sleek and minimal. Airs are a status symbol in every respect--ensconced in logos (the flying man, as well as Jordan's own name slapped on in every way possible) and overpriced (or at least the same price as a pair of Gucci sandals). Most importantly, though, they have been the must-have footwear to complete the look of almost every teenager in the world. Michael Jordan's expertly carved features and cool countenance have launched Nike into the closet of anyone who cares about looking good and even those who do not.

Let us not, however, neglect other athletes who have influenced fashion. Who could forget Brian "The Boz" Bosworth? Okay, everyone could. The point is, hairstyles in my elementary school would have been very different (and probably a lot better) if his insidious influence had been absent. Don't be misled, however. Nary a lightning bolt was shaved, nor rat-tail grown, on my pre-adolescent head.

Clash and burn: fashion hell

This same arena, football, has created the most abhorrent, repugnant, vile, fetid piece of "fashion" ever to haul its carcass onto America's stage of style and die. Indeed, we have football to thank for "zoobas," or whatever they're called. If you reach into your mental rolodex, you will recall this snazzy little tog: nauseatingly tiger-striped (Chicago Bears and Miami Dolphins were color favorites) Jams-esque pants that billowed bountifully at the thigh area and then proceeded to a taper perfect enough to tuck into those hi-top, velcro-strapped Reebok Classics. I am all for fashion classics, but this one has stayed for way too long. They are still making appearances in gyms, malls, and Brooklyn.

In light of the last example, the American public has also borne witness to clashes of athletics and fashion. Starter jackets, that necessary accoutrement of adolescent team pride, were a fashion movement that spawned charming tales of rugrat violence and teen murder. Air Jordans have attained a similar mystique, prompting athletes who sponsor uglier shoes to lower their prices.

And watch out when athletes come into contact with the world of high fashion. There are a few success stories, such as model Elsa Benitez's basketball-playing boyfriend slam-dunking his way through a layout in a recent Vogue. Then again, there's not much one can do to screw up just plain good looks and stunning physique.

Alonzo Mourning definitely gets a cookie for the slick black D&G skullcap he was sporting when I spotted him shopping with Dikembe Mutombo in the Gucci boutique. Mutombo literally could not fit into certain parts of the store (they must do something about those pesky ceilings), but he gets an "A" for effort.

On the whole, though, many athletes are just plain horrible at putting themselves together. Picture Deion Sanders in bastardized Versace zoot suits or various basketball players donning truly laughable Iceberg shirts and Coogi sweaters. Do not allow these people to have millions of dollars unless they get personal shoppers, lest the face of high fashion be permanently scarred.

Despite their various follies, the line between athletics and fashion continues to blur as we approach a new era of style and sportsmanship. Michael Jordan has retired. Armani produces running shoes. It is up to the American public, as it has always been, to decide whether these recent developments are positive. As the majority of running shoes continue to be bought by non-athletes and Prada's new Sport line grows in popularity and size, all signs are pointing to the positive.

Graphic by Sara Edward-Corbett.

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