Are Monochromatic Sweatsuits Athleisure’s—and Our—Final Form?

Athleisure isn’t new, nor is a nostalgic callback to the matching leisurewear set — simply look to the revitalized thirst for a Sopranos “Bensonhurst tuxedo,” NBA Twitter’s love for a #CozyFam fit, or the brief return of the Juicy tracksuit. The look is a Hadid standby and hell, ever since Kanye definitely invented leather joggers, we’ve endured Yeezy’s many takes on drab, cozy monochromatism (and, for reasons obvious yet unintelligible, his pseudo-brother-in-law Scott Disick’s recent iterations thereof). But, like The Wizard of Oz or The Giver taught us, color prevails.

Lately, a brighter take on coordinated separates has surfaced: the forcefully Roy G. Biv sweatsuits from Entireworld. While Entireworld offers many cute basics that seemingly predicted Vampire Weekend’s comeback, the sweats (sold separately but often styled together) are a clear standout, due in no small part to some weirdly compelling marketing on social media. This includes a baffling video of Andrew Garfield wearing a yellow set while playing in an ultramarine-blue foam pit.

These rainbow-hued sweatsuits signal a new sort of bare minimum, and it feels like we’ve reached where leisurewear was heading this whole time — a final destination, of sorts. Forget style or even color-blocking, fam — it’s just color. It’s dressing to emulate meldable Play-Doh; to evoke an era that vaguely resembles the ’80s, maybe ’90s, like something you probably wore as a child but also somehow reminds you of the movie Her.

The sweats suggest a level of comfort so great it’s almost bleary, like an off-duty Power Ranger on Lexapro. They pose a normcore that is so normal it’s … not. Are these sweatsuits utopian or dystopian, and why is it so hard to tell?

Last week, The New York Times profiled Entireworld’s founder, Scott Sternberg, in a piece that ran in print with the headline, “Trying, Basically, to Dress the Whole World.” The brand’s very name implies an endgame ethos: they’re going for a look, a uniform for a brighter future. Unity. Egalitarianism. Harmony. In that future, it seems, we’ll all be out here looking like the cast of an ’80s children’s variety show.

Indeed, the brand cites a 1983 French children’s movie titled Le Petite Bande as an inspiration for the sweats. It does not help that a recent ad campaign features Kirsten Dunst, clad in a kelly green set, hanging out with a Yo Gabba Gabba!-esque creature named Muboo. (Obviously, as 2019 is a nightmare, Muboo has their own Instagram.) Speaking of The Giver, this look could’ve easily been the costume signifier of a more hopeful future in a local children’s theater adaptation I once saw, in which the entire cast wore matching grey Hanes sweatsuits.

The aforementioned marketing of these sweats recalls Esprit and Benetton ads of yore, minus the pearly white smiles. While the ads’ uncanny tone is definitely on purpose and probably tongue-in-cheek, there is something to be said about a campaign for sweatpants that is designed to feel somewhat unsettling. Hey, we are still really into cults — we must be drawn to that sort of thing.

Circa 1982: wide eyes, coordinated separates, can’t lose. (Photo via Retrowaste)

Sternberg—who also founded and ran the label Band of Outsiders until 2015 (kind of a spooky name now, considering)—affirmed the cultishness of the brand’s, uh, branding in an interview with Man Repeller last summer. “Entireworld is about this idea of a building a better tomorrow, a Utopian ideal, kind of like how people saw the future in the 60s,” he said. “Ideals like optimism, inclusivity, connectivity and a global outlook are very much a part of the Entireworld brand ethos. And certainly there’s this idea of a community, or a cult, that ties it all together.”

Lest we forget, another cult with a penchant for monochromatic outfits captured our attention just last year. Remember when the sunrise-hued dress code of the Rajneeshpuram had a (tonedeaf) moment? Colorful clothing, as a tool, can belie a sinister core. Certainly, a crewneck heather gray sweatsuit has its own connotations.

All told, who are these sweatsuits really geared towards? My guess: mostly conventionally hot people running errands in L.A., which in itself is kind of a cult. (It is worth noting, with deep frustration, that Entireworld doesn’t appear to offer the sweats in sizes beyond women’s XL or men’s large). They suggest an Erewhon uniform for the modern era, as though the bird logo adorning the FreeCity sweatpants of yesteryear flew right off, leaving behind a simpler pair for (improbably) simpler times.

Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to throw on a pair of these babies to go buy some spirulina powder. Grant me the off-putting utopian future I crave.