Every four years, like clockwork, several things will happen. I will lament the fact I still don't have a mortgage. I will contemplate a career change and, for a few feverish moments, seriously believe that I have what it takes to be a human rights lawyer. And I will also zone into niche Olympic sports. I will say things like “great technique” or “she's a real wildcard in this round" despite knowing absolutely nothing about how one wins at whipping around a ribbon on a stick.
The time has come again. After Paris's damp and laborious opening ceremony (legend has it that the Beyoncé rip-off mechanical horse is still cantering down the Seine), the first fringe event was streaming live and direct to my living room: the 10m Air Rifle Mixed Team match-up. Cue equal parts confusion and a delusional “Oh, I could do that, easy.”
But while there is much magic in firing at targets with rifles that look like a Fortnite add-on pack, the fits fired off even harder—like those of Team China's Huang Yuting and Sheng Lihao. The duo, who just outgunned South Korea for the gold, took to the line-up procession in matching yellow-and-red fits that were weird and futuristic and quite ascendant London fashion designer all at once. Their opponents all mirrored the same fit in shades of black and blue.
In a 2022 NBC news segment, US gold medalist Ginny Thrasher talked through the sci-fi-ness of it all, saying: “Just like with figure skates where the boots are custom molded to each athlete's foot, our suits are designed specifically for us… They're very cool because they're made of a weird stiff leather material, they're actually really heavy, but the whole purpose of them is to help you be more still, more consistent, more accurate.” The result is something completely alien, with bright-colored patches sewn together in a jacket and trousers with a kick to the hem. It's quite patchwork, and club kid, and intergalactic mercenary cadet. And, most importantly, it's a far-cry from the free-flowing and fitted sports kits of the big events. We expect tiny shorts from the sprinters. We expect vests from the log-armed hammer throwers. But we don't really expect this sort of kit at the Olympics.
Therein lies the beauty of the world's biggest sporting event. Here in the UK, where there's little else but football, rugby, and sometimes cricket if you've got 192 hours to spare, the Olympics is like a university open day to a whole new world. Better yet, it makes stars of people you wouldn't even think to Google. Huang Yuting and Sheng Lihao deserve all the applause in the world for collecting a gold medal, whether that's in shooting, sprinting, rhythmic gymnastics, or any other sport that demands peak dedication and sacrifice. But for fashionheads, it's also another confirmation of just how menswear has become so intertwined with the sports-functional. We still pound Oakley sunglasses. We still slut out in short shorts. We're falling in love with shooting kits from 2093 AD.
Plus, there's been all sorts of fashion moments at Paris 2024. The Team Mongolia opening ceremony fits went viral in all their resplendent, gilded, traditional glory. There's been a spike in big Hollywood guys attending in some meticulous suits. UK swimmer Adam Peaty's goggles would fly in an illegal warehouse techno rave. But the shooting fits preceded all of that. And while I might forget about the 10m Air Rifle Mixed Team event for another four years, those bangers aren't leaving my mind anytime soon.
This story originally appeared on British GQ with the title ‘Sorry, since when did the Olympic shooting kits go this hard?’