Save that shit… for later?
The polo resurgence and the subversion of preppy
If we’re talking about the polo, then we have to talk about Chief Keef. To keep it real, I wanted to open this blog post with a searing recollection of the first time I heard his music. If I was at all disingenuous, I might say that my much older (and therefore mystified) brother ‘put me on.’ I’d say that one day his music wafted throughout the house, and little Ema was at once perplexed yet enticed. The truth is, my brother had long moved to the States before Sosa’s debut mixtape ever rolled around – and there’s not a single moment I can attribute to becoming ‘Chief Keef-pilled.’
You could say, however, that there’s been a palpable energy. An energy that’s waxed and waned, but seems to be back in full force – which is why I’m writing to you now. As I’ve scrolled my life away over the past year on TikTok, I can’t help but notice an influx of shaggy-haired teens who’ve undoubtedly got Chief Keef on their moodboards. It’s as if they all follow a formula: Ralph Lauren polo shirt, sagged slim-fit jeans, and a disaffected suburban attitude. These videos, all crafted to the tune of Sosa himself, got a girl thinking…
To properly assess the situation, we’ve got to run it back to the beginning. Some of Keef’s very first mixtapes, namely 2012’s Back from the Dead and 2013’s Almighty So, were nothing short of explosive. Created when he was a mere teen – at seventeen and eighteen years old respectively — he was still wet with embryonic fluid when he catapulted to worldwide fame. It comes as no surprise then, that he found favour with his fellow adolescents. But, what’s particularly interesting is the hold he had on suburban teens.
I can make some educated guesses. After all, adolescence is an emotional minefield. Perhaps to these young suburbanites, being asked to tidy their rooms was akin to navigating the streets of south side Chicago. Maybe the camaraderie of their lacrosse teams echoed the kinship of Keef’s Black Disciples gang. Or maybe, just maybe, his high-adrenaline portrait of Chiraq injected a sense of excitement into the banality of suburbia.
Chief Keef via Instagram (2010s)
The impression that Chief Keef left seeped into the sartorial, with the Ralph Lauren polo turning into some kind of iconoclastic symbol. If Christians have the cross, then Chief Keef fans have the polo. The most hotly-coveted? The Big Pony City Polo. It’s instantly recognisable, in all of its preppy glory, with its boldly embroidered crest and horse. Interestingly, these polos fall under Polo Ralph Lauren — one of the several Ralph Lauren diffusion lines. Riding on the coattails of its namesake’s perceived luxury, it actually came about as a much cheaper and more accessible version of its overlord. Paired with money spreads, chains, and Moncler, however, it’s safe to say that Keef cultivated a sense of desire within his listeners. A desire fuelled by subversion, I think. Intentionally or not, Keef disassociated the polo from its original context. A piece of clothing, once overwhelmingly associated with old money, had now become synonymous with debauchery.
To bring us back to the now, and return to the question of resurgence — I think the core of it all is belonging. Subculture has forever existed, and people have always acted, dressed, and deigned to fit into a certain group. But with the internet being far more prevalent in our lives now than in the early 2010s, nostalgia is definitely added into the mix. Internet intellectual Rian Phin has mused on dressing nostalgically: “I am longing for an imagined past that I didn’t even necessarily experience (...) but I’m reconstructing an experience of the past and embracing it so that I have assured certainty in my life.” Do I even need to ask why we want to escape the present? Or feel a sense of certainty?
Raimundo Langlois campaign imagery
Although the line between ‘subculture’ and ‘trend’ is increasingly blurring, I can’t help but feel that the subversion of preppy is here to stay for a while. Beyond the confines of ‘Chief Keef-core,’ IYKYK brand Raimundo Langlois has harnessed the preppy essence of 2010s Abercrombie & Fitch and Hollister – while subverting that all-American cheese by way of sensuality and homoeroticism. Take their Layered Polo Shirt – which builds on that era’s trend of stacking them – that now feels almost Margiela-esque in its newfound context. LA-based brand OGBFF also currently sells two slogan polos for their ‘chronically online’ customers, along with the likes of Vaquera and Praying — while I see e-hotties like Baby Morocco and TikTok ‘unc’ Chris Heyn Jr. sporting vintage polos too.
Praying’s Kim Kardashian polo
Why is this certain niche of people embracing the polo? And, why now? While Chris Heyn Jr.’s affinity for the polo ties into his upper class, East Coast upbringing – the item doesn’t necessarily fit within the messy, sleazy 2010s revival we’re witnessing. Enter: the Miu Miu effect. Lest we forget, Miu Miu has bestowed us with trend upon trend – since like, forever. In fact, we could trace the polo resurgence – and the subversion of preppy – to their SS24 collection shown at PFW in October 2023. Stylist Lotta Volkova worked her mastery – giving us layers galore, while pairing button-up shirts with panties, polo shirts with mini skirts, and blazers with sandals. It felt fresh, and aesthetically rebellious; full of the most delightful contradictions. Unsurprisingly, the collection resonated with critics and aficionados alike. The Miu Miu effect took place, and as we can see, the trend is finally trickling down.
Miu Miu SS24 show
You could call it an aesthetic clash, and – while this might be a stretch – this trend calls to mind the dissonance of millennial ‘business casual’ clubwear. The late 2000s and early 2010s saw flocks of partygoers head to the club in button-up shirts, blazers, pencil skirts, and waistcoats. Make no mistake, these weren’t ‘day-to-night’ looks. In fact, there was no office to step out into the night from, as this era saw crazy rates of unemployment – spurred on by the 2007-2009 global recession. Instead, dressing like this was playing into a fantasy – the fantasy of employment. Sound familiar, anyone?
Kim Kardashian at the People’s Choice Awards (2007)
While I don’t think ‘niche fashion people’ are particularly seeking to present themselves as wealthy, the polo is an interesting item to play with symbolically. This mixing of ‘high’ and ‘low,’ moneyed but trashy, preppy but suggestive, kind of encapsulates the head-fuck of a time we’re living in. Teenage girls buy neutral-coloured Zara blazers in order to appear understated and ‘quiet luxury,’ while Jeff Bezos kicks off his $46.8 million wedding with an Ibiza-esque foam party. It’s becoming increasingly clear that nothing is what it seems, and it’s impossible to signal your way out of having cold hard cash. The very world we’re living in is a subversion, and I guess we’re starting to dress like it.