Nike recently released its design for the women’s Olympic track team. Perhaps you saw it in the news. If you didn’t, let me describe it for you. It’s a leotard. It’s this purplish pinkish pattern with cartoonish font across the front that reads ‘USA,’ as well as the American flag and the Nike swoosh. The neckline is a bit higher, which Nike, in a statement, claimed was to accommodate the comfort of the athletes it serves. However, it appears as though the big-name brand decided to take fabric from the groin region of the suit to supplement the neckline. You can certainly look it up for yourself, but to put it mildly: athletes will strongly need to consider their grooming habits for their nether regions before slipping this garish suit on. The legs are extraordinarily high cut and unless my eyes deceive me, it appears as though the crotch section is narrower than is the norm for, well, anything but a lacy thong.
And for some reason, gazing upon this nylon-polyester piece of lingerie masquerading as athletic wear made me think of a conversation that I had with a friend recently. I’d like to share that conversation, but I think it makes sense to share that my story is going to feel like 683 degrees of separation. In other words, it’s going to feel completely irrelevant. It’s not, but you are going to have to hang in there to find out.
My friend was sharing a story where she recently arrived a bit tardy to a meeting at work to find that there were quite literally no seats at the table for her. Coincidentally and perhaps unsurprisingly, the table was filled to the brim with comfortably seated white men. And perhaps predictably, not even one of those charming fellas made any moves to make room for my friend at the table.
It was at this point in the story that my friend started to caveat and disclaim. Why? Well, she wanted me to understand that she understands she sounds ‘old fashioned’, but she still felt disappointed that they all just sat there, soaking in her mid-level, but ever-present anxiety.
I barely thought before I responded to her, explaining that I feel that there is a significant differential between manners and equality or equity. I relayed a story to her from several years ago, when a male colleague was bitching about a woman who was looking for someone to give up a seat on the subway. He was mystified by it all, explaining that feminism doesn’t, in his opinion, jive with expectations of good ol’ chivalry.
Um, why?
Chivalry, per the Collins Dictionary, is “polite, kind, and unselfish behavior, especially by men toward women.” Feminism is really about all genders having equal rights and opportunities. I’m a bit confused as to why those two concepts would be at odds with each other. But perhaps they are, right? Perhaps women cannot expect polite, kind behavior and also, equal treatment. I guess we have to choose. If I want to have equal treatment, compensation, and opportunity, then I have to sacrifice the notion of having a door held open for me. At this time, I would like to point out that if my friend had elbowed her way into the table or asked the men to shove over and make space, she would have been labeled bitchy and aggressive, but that’s a story for another day.
If I flip the script for a moment, I have just written the script for toxic masculinity. That’s right. If you want to be a strong, powerful man, then you need to take that all the way home. There is no room for sensitivity or emotionality if you want to be a man’s man.
I think you likely get the point, and you certainly get my messaging that I think that this paradigm, whether narrowly or widely applied, is bullshit. One literally has nothing to do with the other. Although, if it must, then I can tell you that I’ll stand on the fucking subway if I can somehow get myself to a place of equity at work, or if our government will stop telling me what I can and can’t do with my body.
Okay, let’s kick it back to where I started. I am extremely cognizant of the fact that there will be folks who judge the criticism of the Nike uniform. How can women want control over their bodies and want to embrace their feminism and sexuality and have freedom to wear what they please and then also, be bent out of shape over a leotard? If we want bodily freedom, then who cares if our private bits are perilously close to exposure during an athletic performance? If you want to be a tough ass bitch, don’t you have to lean into possible wardrobe malfunctions? Nothing screams independence like a little ass cheek, amiright?
No. Nope. No, thanks.
Here’s the thing: we are allowed to be multidimensional. You are permitted to want someone to make space for you at the table and also, want to feel like you’ve earned that seat the table the same way that everyone else did, and by everyone, I mean every man.
I can want to be able to wear something sexy or sensual and not have it justify ill or dangerous treatment and I can also tell you that I think the leotard that Nike designed is laughable and disrespectful. Nike claims that it always considers the feelings of its athletes when it designs uniforms. Really? Because I’m fairly certain that the micro-floss that is the crotch of that leotard is going to crawl right up women’s vaginas or shift uncomfortably from side to side. What it will NOT do is support optimal performance. Few women will shine their brightest whilst sprinting in high cut briefs. Maybe some will, but the uniform is supposed to be designed to suit the many, not the few.
And as for the sentiment that there will be other uniform options to choose from: who fucking cares? Why release the uncomfytard at all? If I’m being honest, I feel like it’s some control shit. Some opportunistic, exploitive control garbage. This was not an earnestly constructed uniform. If that were the case, the leg holes would be, well, normal-ish. And they aren’t. And that annoys the fuck out of me.
I’m not a fast runner, at all, but boy do I love it. I love running myself and I love watching runners. I love expressing myself through my clothing and I’m not super interested in others’ opinions. I also strongly believe in and advocate for women’s equality. And yet, I really hate that fucking uniform. It screams of impatience and misogyny and a total lack of creativity.
I like polite men and strong women and I’m okay with that. Really. Very, very okay.
Let’s try again, Nike. Don’t just create ”other” options. Get rid of that one.
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