Why boxing is the most elegant sport and why fashion houses never tire of doing it

Nowadays, less than before, we gather in a room, with my grandfather closer to the television, and we watch two people hit each other. There's always food: someone makes pozole, someone brings a Little Caesars Hot-N-Ready. The chorus of collective grimaces rises and falls and at least one person in our home crowd becomes a backseat referee. It's a blood sport, but it's also a dance, a performance that unfolds before our eyes. In my family, ordering the big fight is tradition. Most of us are watching to see who wins, who is in better condition, who is being shady with his technique. But my attention has always fallen on the pageantry of it all, on the kitsch, Fashion. Boxing is one of the few sports where there is a structure and expectation for a type of uniform, but the details are up to interpretation. Landing an uppercut is one thing, but showing up to the ring wearing leopard pants and olive green Adidas boxing shoes. and winning (see: “Prince” Naseem Hamed vs. Kevin Kelley, 1997) is another.

If you're going to perform, you need a costume. In boxing, the performance begins long before the first punch is thrown: with the walk around the ring. It is the ultimate exercise in anticipation and aesthetics. It's a chance for a boxer to show you who they are, where they come from, and what they believe in by the color and cut they choose for their custom-made boxers, by the song they choose to go out to. It gets dramatic, of course. See: Floyd Mayweather vs. Oscar De La Hoya, 2007.

But from a certain angle, the circular walk looks like a landing strip. There is a popular meme that takes a snapshot of two boxers hugging each other, sweat and Vaseline mingling on their wet, swollen foreheads as their breathing becomes slow and heavy, like a car pulling into the gas station after a run in “e.” for 10 miles. He usually says something like, “I love it when they hug.” An image of a boxing match, without context, can be violence mistaken for affection. Similarly, an image of a circular walkway, without context, could be confused with a walkway. You squint hard enough and it's all the same.

Muna wears GCDS top and bottom, Vitaly jewelry, and Nike boxing shoes.

(Callum Walker Hutchinson / For The Times)

In October, I was sitting at an Amazon Music fashion show (styled by Image fashion director Keyla Marquez) and the final look was a striped ballgown with a full skirt that, upon closer inspection, was Cinched at the waist with that classic boxer-type elastic band. – the model, Pablo Simental, wore it as a wedding dress on the catwalk. The piece was from Tanamachi, a brand from Mexico City whose references to the classic boxing uniform are turned into maxi cargo skirts, miniskirts, pants, shorts and faux jockstraps. The feel of the work is sporty and informal but specific, using iconography that we all recognize for its proximity to both greatness and danger. This could explain boxing's symbiotic relationship with fashion, a dynamic of mutual inspiration that seems to peak every 10 years for the past few decades.

It's ironic how sporty I dress considering how little to no affinity I have for actual sports: my own involvement in boxing hasn't gotten past the point where my grandfather told me to go “hit the bag” whenever I was anxious. while growing up. . It's giving: “She doesn't even come here.” It's like, “Oh, that band is on your shirt? Name 10 songs.” I would fail these tests. I can't speak to statistics, but I am magnetically attracted to the subculture surrounding sports. I live for the fandom. The beef. And above all, always, aesthetics. I am even more attracted to fashion's vision of sports: it is always out of context; to yasified Version of something most athletes wear for safety or practicality reasons, recreated solely for the vibe. Last year, it could be seen in the way the girls (gender neutral) adopted vintage motocross t-shirts and pants, fluorescent polyester all over the Silverlake Flea. One recent weekend, I was a woman in an Adidas boxing shoe at a warehouse party in the Fashion District (rave is a sport, right?).

The model holds a punching bag and wears Rocawear tops and bottoms, Vitaly jewelry, and Pleasers shoes.

French fashion icon Michèle Lamy, designer, artist and wife of Rick Owens, began boxing almost 40 years ago when she walked into a gym near Santa Monica Boulevard. She told iD magazine in 2020 that “boxing is about standing up for what you believe in.” She has infused the sport into her work for the past few decades, inspiring a pop-up in 2018 that featured a capsule collection of boxing-inspired items, including Supreme's collaboration with Everlast. Lamy has also said that boxing is about “watching someone who is watching you.” Boxers deliberately wear flashy clothing in the ring to inspire this type of observation, primarily from their audience, but also from their opponent. The Apollo Creed boxers worn by Rocky in “Rocky IV” were intended as a provocation, a political statement: shorts for others to see and feel in some way. We couldn't look away when Hector “Macho” Camacho wore a tasseled Roman gladiator skirt to fight “Sugar” Ray Leonard in 1977. In the same way we can't look away when we see shiny satin boxers worn with a white sleeveless t-shirt. and heels at an art opening.

When my grandfather was young, he was reputed to be a fearless fighter. His nickname was Oso, also known as “bear.” He fought in the street, then in a ring, where never Lost, inside or out, reminds me. He moved to California at age 17 to see if he could turn professional. (When he arrived, one of the only boxing gyms in San Diego had been closed in a panic response to the deaths of several young men during fights.) He trained my two uncles in boxing when they were young, the 30 year old one. The joke of the year is that one of them fought Julio César Chávez (not against the iconic Mexican boxer Julio César Chávez, but against a boy named after him). My mom spent much of her childhood standing next to the ropes, yelling for her brothers to win over her, and eventually she jumped into her own exhibition fight, where she beat up a boy named Beto.

A punching bag and gloves are always very close to my mom's house, waiting there in case inspiration strikes or if there is something unforeseen that needs to be let off steam. My grandfather has always wanted his grandchildren (all 7 million of them) to learn, “so they can defend themselves,” so that no one messes with them. I felt proud that this was the sport my family played, the thing where we connected. I felt it as closely associated with toughness and discipline as I wanted to imagine.

I felt a kinship when I bought a pair of vintage Fred Segal boxing-style shoes last year. Of course you should have theseI thought, it's in my blood. I also considered myself blessed: it was at that moment that I felt something was happening again with boxing and fashion, in the same way it did with Prada's silky SS14 boxing shoes, or Chanel's entire AW92 red leather runway look with gloves and protective equipment. In the last six months, I can't No Look at it. Maybe it's a Baader-Meinhof phenomenon, when you think about something so much you start to see it everywhere, or the algorithm. But I I felt it: the rest of the world was starting to notice once again. (I'm just waiting for the moment when the trend hits Santee Alley, then I'll know for sure.)

A similar pair of boxing shoes is selling for hundreds on Depop right now. Last month, one of my favorite online vintage curators, @copmeifyoucan, posted a pair of Jean Paul Gaultier SS88 boxing shorts, featuring pinstripes and a bone design and adorned with the image of a boxing gym. (The designer was inspired by sports throughout his career, from the '90s, when he made a bag inspired by boxing shorts that is still coveted on resale sites, to his FW10 show where models strutted in gloves). And in the fall Paisaboys collection, the brand released a pair of Campeones shorts: red, green and white satin with scorpion appliqués on the legs. A campaign image read: “Arms too short to box with God.”

A boxer and a trainer strategize in the corner of a boxing ring.

The model poses with her hands behind her back in the ring.

A boxing shoe is lightweight and low to the ground. It's an ideal vehicle for modern life in Los Angeles: to move fast enough not to get hurt, to stay steady, or to achieve some semblance of balance. A model at a photo shoot recently told me that she had been thinking about buying a pair as a replacement for her Nike Cortez. Every time I wear vintage Fred Segals, they spark comments and memories; Someone recently called them “the Nacho Libre 3000” (yes, the fictional character was a wrestler, but the association is there). They remind us of something we want (to be tough, brave, fast) or something we have seen.

What is expected of a sports outfit is that it communicates that you are ready for anything. There is a blatant irreverence towards basketball shorts off the court or a tight football shirt in the club. But in my case, a boxing-inspired look is all about reverence. A cosplay of my family's values. “You have no one to blame,” my grandfather told me the other day when I asked him why he was drawn to boxing instead of any other sport. “If you're making mistakes or something happens, it's up to you.” Wearing a boxing shoe is my connective tissue to this feeling and to all the other boxing lessons that have infiltrated my life. A bondage for my grandfather. A reminder that even if I'm just dressing the part, I'm also a fighter.

IMAGE Number 24 history of boxing fashion

Models Sierra Fujita, Muna Malik, Kimberly Nolasco
Make up Selena Ruiz
Hair Adrian Arredondo
Styling assistant Izzy Hyun

You may also like...