There is a certain kind of man who thinks sports shorts are acceptable outside the gym when worn with a knowing logo tee or hoodie, ribbed socks, and gently bruised “fashion” trainers. Harry Styles and Paul Mescal are those men. Both performers wear their alternative PE kits with cropped mullet haircuts that are almost woman repellers, but will, of course, never be, because they both represent the peak of internet boyfriend-dom.
When in sports dad mode, Styles and Mescal are not as picky about the brands on their backs that will inevitably get pored over by, well, us. Harry, for example, has been known to swap his Adidas three-stripe thigh-grazers for Under Armour versions, which seems unfathomable for someone in Alessandro Michele’s inner circle. But when he’s not making feather boas a thing or singing about watermelons in sequined jumpsuits, Styles is just a regular guy trying to Lime bike to Hampstead Heath in the shade of his Augusta National Golf Club cap and Gucci Gg0912S 001 sunglasses. As for Paul Mescal’s O’Neills GAA short-shorts? Well, they don’t deserve any more column inches.
The reason why these Gucci ambassadors get away with wearing clothes to pop to the Co-op and pick up a couple of tinnies and some prawn cocktail crisps is because they are hot. The man from Baby Reindeer, who was famous for all of two minutes, would not be given the same free pass wearing cotton boxers to a fashion presentation. Paul and Harry also enjoy the level of fame where they are (frequently) gifted luxury goods that can elevate even the most scuffed Vans X Kunichi Nomura Comfycush lace-ups. When you’ve got a JW Anderson Bumper bag slung over your shoulder (Harry) or The Row’s Margaux carryall glued to your hand (Harry again), all is forgiven. Paul’s equivalent of a Bottega Cassette might be a Sweetgreen paper bag, but that’s deemed OK, because his thighs are on display, the vegetable receptacle matches his trainers, and he is Irish.
As show season approaches and Styles is tempted out of seclusion to support Michele’s Valentino debut, while Mescal continues to play the Gucci poster boy for new creative director Sabato De Sarno, we’re likely to see directional tailoring trump their Lululemons. Look closely though, and the leg-lengthening high waistbands will remain, while the cut of their scoop-neck tees and open shirts will be left just so to reveal a glimpse of Connell’s chain. Those boyish crops? Still as gently mussed up as ever. Once an indie gym rat, always an indie gym rat—just with the kind of glint in the eye that’s paid for by a brand.