These Colors Do Run

Fuck Ralph Lauren. Fuck him with a $350 boat shoe. Sorry, coming in hot there. Let me rewind.

This is a story about how Ralph Lauren ruined the 2016 Summer Olympics for me, months before they ever began.

The Olympics are fun in the same way presidential elections are fun. They are both competitions on the biggest stages, where merit and talent should decide the outcome. And at the end of the day, the strongest, most qualified person should win. But anyone who chews before swallowing knows that the real parallel is that the Olympics, just like a presidential election, are just a corporate-funded miniseries.

One of the major brands supporting this year’s US Olympic team commercial, again, is Ralph Lauren. You may remember RL from those horrifically tacky, over-logoed, cardigans, polos, and blazers that you have never seen an actual human being wear. This summer will be no different, as RL has released their Rio 2016 Olympic Games Team USA Collection.

America’s best athletes will wear this collection in the opening and closing ceremonies in Rio, which means Smarmy, Conceited Douchebag will be the world’s first impression and last taste of what we, the United States, have to offer. There is nothing stylish about what RL offers here. Why not cut out the middle man and just wear your money around?

I can’t be the only one who thinks these RL outfits would only be worn by uppity pricks of The One Percent.  Someone who is sure they always have the right of way and thinks entitlement is a myth. These garish tributes to the Red, White, and Blue would be more fitting for a person hanging out with Jay Gatsby, someone who cares about the Met Ball, or July 4th at Paula Deen’s house.

I hate these outfits for what they are and what they portend about our nation. They are stiff and self-important, gaudy and uninspired. They evoke a feeling of privilege, something Americans may know a lot about, but shouldn’t exactly wear on their oxford chambray sleeves.

This is not how the United States should want to brand itself in front of the world. Even if the people who dominate our news cycle want to prevent it, this country has always been a melting pot, and these haughty eyesores scream private country club mixer or private yacht club fundraiser or private Stepford Wives cosplay.

“But Josh,” you think as I keep pointing out the awful circles of hell where these RL outfits would better fit, “RL provided the US Olympic team with douchey outfits for the last four Olympics, why the anger this year?”

“Fair point reader,” I begrudgingly cede, before answering your question with a question. “But doesn’t this walk back the strides we’ve taken to amplify America’s underrepresented voices in the last few years?” Between expanding LGBT rights, Black Lives Matter movements, and Bernie Sanders’ fervent battle for the have-nots, conversations in America may actually begin opening to more and more people.

When I see our athletes posing in this red, white, and blue garb(age), I can’t help but think about how unrepresentative it is of the increasingly diverse national voice I want to hear. We’re a nation where diversity is an identifying trait, so why cover that up with something that only represents a tiny fraction — a literal 1 percent — of our country?

And if it were just the way that our athletes looked as they strutted before the world it would be one thing, but it doesn’t end with the optics. RL is trying to sell that same shit to American consumers for the GDP of a Pacific Island nation!

The Team USA Ceremony Oxford shirt you see Ryan Lochte in? That’s $145. The Team USA Ceremony T-shirt hiding under it that you can’t see? Another $80.

Think Gabby Douglas’ wrist looks good with the red, white, and blue lanyard? It better, since that thing costs $98.

The Team USA Ceremony Twill Shorts Meb Keflezighi may don? They cost $99 and are held up by a belt that will cost another $98.

And then there are those goddamn $350 boat shoes, which ironically, are probably the least important footwear of the Olympic games. That’s where I have to put my foot down.

Sorry for the pun, but I haven’t been so geopolitically charged up about a shoe since…

As The Games grow closer, maybe I’ll embrace nationalism and get past what you’ve done to us, Ralph. But until then, take your boat shoes and get to stepping.