The holiday season is over, but the Christmas sweater, like the quarter-full carton of eggnog lurking in the back of your fridge, lives on, well past its expiration date. That’s thanks to the designers at Ralph Lauren, who on Thursday unveiled the uniforms—or, let’s be honest, costumes—that will be worn by the American delegation of athletes at the opening ceremony in Sochi, two weeks from now. There’s a lot to parse, from the goofy toque to the Edmund Hillary boots, but it is the sweaters—wool cardigans with shawl collars—that stand out. They are as subtle as the crashing cymbals of “The Star-Spangled Banner,” the seeming result of a focus-group mandate for stars, stripes, Olympic rings, some brand symbols, and the year 2014 to all be represented. Well, check!
But wait, there’s more. Turtlenecks are back in style this season, apparently, as are fleece pants that look like they ought to have feet sewn on the bottom and a flap on the back for those dark evening trips to the outhouse. Americans are often accused these days of going out in our pajamas—and here that national slouchiness meets haute couture.
The outfits are, to use a word once widely attributed to bad sweaters, a bit “fugly,” and yet there is something still more unsettling about them. In ski lodges across the country, you will find people decked out in the finest winter togs available, who manage, somehow, to never make it outside. They sit ensconced in high-end fleeces and wools and furs and leathers—layers that are useful in the cold but unnecessary for surviving the journey from fireside couch to snack bar. Ralph Lauren owns a giant tract of ranchland in southwestern Colorado, near the ski country of the San Juan Mountains, so you might have hoped that he’d have known better than to dress the American contingent as ski bunnies and their male equivalent (ski puppies?). Instead of looking like the no-nonsense winter adventurers that they surely are—the kinds of people who would roll their socks over their pants only when truly snowy conditions demanded it—our athletes will resemble those eager folks who, invited north for a ski weekend, run to the mall to find the perfect accoutrements with which to blend in, only to be outed as impostors once they are among the whispering pines. The Norwegians or Germans would probably laugh at us, if they didn’t look so silly themselves.
Still, these sweaters have one redeeming quality: they were designed, sourced, and assembled in the United States. Two years ago, Ralph Lauren faced criticism from angry patriotic types when it was revealed that the outfits for the London Olympics had been manufactured in China. (This said less about Ralph Lauren than it did about the state of American textile manufacturing, but never mind.) Others complained about the palm-sized pony on the left breast of the blazers, which seemed a bit heavy on the marketing. The controversy obscured what were some very handsome clothes: fine double-breasted blazers, nicely retro collars, thin ties and restrained scarves. The white pants and shoes seemed fussy (though still in season), but the whole ensemble suggested people out of a crisper, more formal past—or, with those odd yet appealing caps, a finer future. This year, we have outfits made in America … by your well-meaning but hopeless great-aunt. But, thankfully for our athletes, like all those unfortunate handmade gifts of years past, these sweaters have to be worn only once.
Photograph: Ralph Lauren.
[#image: /photos/590950f8c14b3c606c103604]See more of The New Yorker’s coverage of the Sochi Games.
