We have never seen you, in the Vercors, bungee jumping. On the other hand, we spotted you at the edge of the Sporting tennis courts in Vichy (Allier), applauding the debut of Yannick Noah in the Galéa Cup. It was 1978, you were wearing a blue Trévois tracksuit, two tones, funnel neck, full zip. Then we saw you, on the side of the Old Port of Marseille, dancing the “mia” “until the evening wavers”. It was 1993. You were still in tracksuits. Tacchini. Still blue, but royal. Masters track model, 100% polyester, machine washable.
It's a safe bet that you will be surprised tomorrow, trotting in Lacoste (ref. WH8006-00, shiny taffeta, kangaroo pockets) in the bridle paths of a peripheral wood. Why do you deny? You are ashamed, admit it. Because the tracksuit has a bad reputation.
double breasted suit
Where the hell does it come from? “Of its ambiguity. It is both the garment of performance and that of idleness”, answers Marc Beaugé, arbiter of elegance in the columns of M Le magazine du Monde and of social debates in those of Society. “The street took it over and then the rappers hijacked it. It didn't improve his image. It is no longer a sporting item but the symbol of rebellion, of the margins. He is anti-authoritarian. At a time when productivity and mobility are set up as dogmas, it is the companion of the “gland”. »
However, there are many who ignore this prejudice. Sometimes out of conviction. Sometimes out of obligation. “Me, I work in tracksuits, proclaims Hadri, 27, head of a small car mechanics business in Seine-Saint-Denis. First, my activity allows it. Then, I would be ill at ease in a suit or as a handsome boy in the middle of my employees who are in overalls. I choose models from my favorite football clubs: Atlético Madrid, Manchester City. My clients never told me anything. »
"I've always worn it," says Johnny, 28, a winemaker at Nicolas Reau, one of the prominent winegrowers of the Saumur appellation, based in Sainte-Radegonde (Deux-Sèvres), where he also raises ferrets. I have about ten tracksuits. It's my wardrobe. It doesn't matter the brand. Inside, I feel free. Nothing to button. The eyes of others, I don't care. »
You have 77.56% of this article left to read. The following is for subscribers only.
