What is climbing’s biggest taboo?
Bolting cracks? Chipping holds? Stealing a redtagged route?
No, no and … no! Climbing’s biggest taboo is admitting that the sport has fashion—and further, that you buy into it, too. Oh, you do. I’ve seen you. You definitely try to look like “a climber.” You want to show that you’re down to go up … you just don’t want anyone to know that you actually spend money on clothing.
That logic works fine until you wake up one day and realize what a miserable hypocrite you are. This is capitalism, kiddo, where the things you wear and the stuff you own say something about who you are.
The word “fashion” has always suffered from its association with fads and materialism. But fashions are communal art, and a deeper examination of this “art” could reveal something very interesting about our culture.
In this issue we feature the future of our sport, today’s young climbers, so it seems appropriate to examine what they are wearing. Some underlying threads (ho ho) here suggest that today’s climber is more interested in looking good than looking “technical.” And what does that say about the current state of climbing? Or its future?
Climbing fashions of the past are also revealing. In each era, the garb paralleled a rebellious movement that reflected the sport’s changing values. To wit:
In the 1920s through the 1950s, many climbers, especially those from the Northeast, were aristocrats in formal white-collar dress shirts. That was because “climbing” to them meant vacationing in the Alps where they would hire French guides to drag their money-laden rears up various ridges. After WWII, however, the invention of the real belay and the nylon rope opened climbing up to a wider, poorer population, one that was more willing to take risks.
Armed with carabiners and ropes that actually worked, climbers showed this willingness by showing everyone else their junk. Throughout the high-spirited 1960s, climbers, like all good hippies, were a rowdy lot, as reflected by their clothing, or lack of it. The Vulgarians, the wayward Gunks clan, were famous for climbing naked, a style brought back today by naked-soloist Michael Reardon.
Following the freewheeling ’60s came the tumultuous 1970s. Climbing was establishing itself as a refuge for society’s most out-of-control freaks and outcasts. These jobless dolts couldn’t pay for gas, let alone a pair of sweet climbing pants with a gusseted crotch. With no market for climbing clothing yet, climbers just winged it. It was like watching toddlers, or your crazy aunt with Alzheimer’s, dress themselves. They wore rugby shirts, painters’ pants and bandannas for helmets.
The 1980s yielded the sport-versus-trad battles that, for a decade, gave climbers something worth arguing about. Sportos wore spandex in an effeminate array of colors. The codpiece effect generated by the condom-tight pants was even more embarrassing, which explains why climbing photos from this battery-powered era are rare. Some have theorized that wearing spandex was a statement of rebellion that said, “We clip bolts and do Egyptian drop knees. You can’t even do a high step, so Beat It, Billy Jean!” The sad truth about Lycra is that it didn’t improve climbing performance; it just let everyone see your junk. (Why do climbers want to show their junk so badly?) Maybe that’s why the tradsters hated the sportos. Fair enough.
Nobody remembers exactly when, but sometime in the 1990s, someone came up with the notion that cotton could kill you. Suddenly, clothing had to be technical—it had to do something other than just sit on your body and cover the nasty bits. To look like a climber in the ’90s meant rebelling against everyone else by wearing synthetic shirts that showed man-nipple, and expensive shells intended for only the most rugged alpine conditions. “Hey, check me out in my waterproof-breathable action suit. So what if I’m in a coffee shop and fat? I’m in between expeditions to Gasherbrum 8. Whatever.”
So, now that we know fashion is inextricably linked to the rebellious movements that drive the sport forward, the question becomes what do today’s trends say? Maybe: “When you look good, you climb good.” Maybe you have to decide for yourself.
I saw a guy yesterday at the gym in black cycle shorts and a super-tight green T, gently crowned by a white headband. It felt awkward…