A Brief History of Athleisure. And an Intro to Athleticore.

I tried to love athleisure. And for a time, maybe I even did. I bought the joggers. The technical hoodies. The shoes that promised to transition seamlessly from workout to weekend.

I don’t think athleisure failed. In a lot of ways, it did exactly what it was supposed to do. It made comfort acceptable. It gave us permission to move through the day without feeling cinched or contained. There will always be a place and a time for that.

But somewhere along the way, I started noticing something subtle. Athleisure made me comfortable. It just didn’t always make me feel composed. There’s a difference.

Comfort is physical.
Composure is visual.

And lately, I’ve been craving both.

It’s not a rejection of what athleisure unlocked. Just a refinement. An evolution. Something that keeps the ease, but reintroduces a point of view.

I’m calling it… Athleticore.

But before we step forward, let’s go back.

The term athleisure started gaining traction in the late ’90s, but it really caught fire in the early 2010s. Brands turned yoga studios into public attire. Stretch fabric became a personality. Silhouettes got slimmer. Sweat-wicking became a lifestyle.

By 2016, athleisure wasn’t a trend. It was an entire retail category. The default for the majority. And by 2020, it was survival. We all lived in it. Zoom calls above the waist, elastic waistbands below.

And now? It’s fully mainstream. You can wear joggers to dinner and no one blinks. Blazers are stretchy. Dress shoes have foam midsoles. Performance fabric is everywhere.

I need to admit something about myself. Any time something becomes completely mainstream, it loses a little electricity for me. That doesn’t mean it’s bad. Popular things can be good things. It just means the edge dulls. The intention softens.

Which is where this new idea started forming in my head.

If athleisure was about borrowing from the gym to make life more comfortable, athleticore is about borrowing from sport to make life more intentional. It’s about dressing like movement is part of who you are.

Athleticore sits somewhere between fashion and performance. It keeps the comfort. The breathability. The ease. But it reintroduces silhouette. Structure. Presence. It’s technical, but tailored in spirit. It nods to sport without being swallowed by it. And most importantly, it feels deliberate.

For the modern man, who wants to be comfortable but not careless, that distinction matters.

When I put on this Nike Sportswear Club Coaches Jacket, something shifted.

The mesh texture immediately changes the conversation. It reads throwback practice jersey. The kind of fabric you’d see under stadium lights in the ’80s. There’s an intentional visual aesthetic to it.

The script logo isn’t minimalist tech branding. It’s varsity. Confident in what it is.

And the silhouette matters. It’s roomy enough to feel relaxed, but structured enough to hold its shape. The snap front. The pointed collar. The elastic cuffs. The drawcord hem. All classic coaches jacket DNA.

Styled with straight-leg denim and some clogs? It stops being athletic apparel. It becomes a statement.

The red helps, too. It’s a bright red that certainly doesn’t whisper. It announces itself.

This jacket feels like a decision.

I’m not trying to convince anyone I might deadlift later. But athleticore acknowledges movement is a part of modern life.

Think one bold athletic piece that anchors everything else. A jacket like this over a simple tee. Clean denim. Maybe even a loafer if you’re feeling dangerous.

First we wanted comfort. Then we needed comfort. Now we want comfort with character. Maybe this is just how trends mature.

Athleisure made it acceptable to feel good in our clothes. Athleticore makes it possible to feel sharp in them again.