We live in a multifaceted society, where individuals should exist free of stereotypes. Having said that, every man to ever give me unsolicited advice has worn a polo shirt.
I’m slamming my badge down on the table as senior constable of the fashion police. The laws state that there are only three occasions where it is acceptable to wear a polo shirt in the year 2024: if you are playing a sport that necessitates the shirt, if you are a primary school student, or if you are a highly regarded Tony Soprano impersonator.
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But it seems that modern society is at odds with my correct opinion. Where did we go wrong? It didn’t use to be this way.
Mid-century polo shirt designs were glorious. A treasure trove of browns and oranges. Knitted button-ups that said, “let me take your coat” and not “follow me into this toilet cubicle.” The polo shirt once evoked visions of Havana nights. It was a symbol of elegance and practicality. Now, the polo is a signifier of never-ending dinner parties talking to your mate’s husband who is really into crypto.
The shirt was invented by French tennis player René Lacoste in the 1920s. Back then, you had to play the sport in tennis whites. It’s a stiff fabric to play tennis in, but a huge save on uniform costs if you wanted to do a few shifts in an ice cream van after a match. But it wasn’t until the 1970s when Ralph Lauren, who is either one man or a pair of fraternal twins, turned Lacoste’s invention into the polo shirt.
Polo had an uptake in popularity in the 70s. I don’t know much about polo, and I don’t care to learn. Polo is a rich person’s game, and I’m going to let them have that one. Elites aren’t going to learn about my tradition of freezing every banana I’ve ever bought in the hopes that I’ll make banana bread before I die.
What I gather from looking at the logo on Ralph Lauren shirts is that polo is a sort of equine Hunger Games. After a long day of taking credit for a horse doing all the hard work, Ralph Lauren saw a chance to merge the player’s love of breathable fabrics with society’s love of rampant consumerism. Next thing you know, the polo is a symbol of WASPish wealth and class envy for time immemorial.
Flash forward to nowadays, polo shirts are nowhere near as patterned and campy. Polo shirts are the dominion of the dad. Not the daddy, let’s be clear. A daddy would never be caught in a polo. It’s an item of clothing that says, “I got a voucher for Father’s Day.” And look, I never want to deprive dads of their culture. They are a proud, noble people. Many of my friends are dads. My dad was a dad. But even my dad would have to admit that dads look pretty daggy in their Gazman
