Cher Horowitz is probably turning in her cinematic grave as I write this, but my love for the velvet Juicy Couture tracksuit sadly compels me to accept her ‘ensembly challenged’ accusation. It is certainly a rarity that an article dedicated to the defence of a tracksuit makes it into the Fashion section of any publication; perhaps even more so, the infamous ‘tack-suit’ produced by Juicy. Their over-representation in charity shops would fool you into thinking that Juicy’s velour track pants and jackets were undesirable, paltry items of no value, but with a usual retail price of around £180, this seems like more of an urban phenomenon than any honest comment on their worth.

“Even if Juicy doesn’t quite go with your aesthetic, at least begin to appreciate the injustice in their discrimination.”

It surprises me that it is necessary to actively defend what is essentially the comfiest thing one could adorn, but since the velvet tracksuit has developed a reputation of being tacky, cheap, and somehow inferior, I feel obliged to do so. The case in their favour is a straightforward one: no one can dispute the comfort of a pair of jogging bottoms or a hoodie, and everybody accepts that velvet is among the elite of fabrics. Logically therefore, one would conclude that a combination of the two, with added gems and rhinestones, would only make for the holy grail of outfits. What a shame that this is not, in fact, the case.

In order to convince you that the repute of Juicy’s (potentially only) fabulous contribution to humanity is such, I undertook a bit of market research. The replies I gathered demonstrate what is an indisputably unfair and, as we shall discover, problematic characterisation of the clothes, symptomatic of wider social dynamics. “They’re actually quite nice and comfy,” said one friend, sadly followed by “but now there’s such a stigma around them that I wouldn’t wear them.”

It wasn’t always this way. Leaving your house used to be an invitation to witness the then oh-so-trendy velvet joggers being worn by almost every girl you knew (or maybe that’s just where I’m from…) One friend remarked that she “had like fifty back in the day”, worn, of course, with a pair of Ugg boots. Once upon a time Juicy were setting the trends, and velvet trackies could be found in all ‘good’ high street retailers, so where did it all go wrong?

I posit that there were two factors involved with the decline of Juicy’s popularity: class and gender (no apologies for HSPS-ing the velvet tracksuit). Juicy, despite being a ‘designer’ brand, has fallen out of favour over the past decade as a result of its association with other notions that have become just as unpopular. There is an assumption that sportswear is ‘chavvy’, and that clothes that are pink or brightly coloured are not only ‘feminine’, but often ‘tacky’ too. As Juicy was at the forefront of such hybrid clothing, it fell victim to such judgements.

“If I walked around college in a matching magenta Juicy number, I would only like to imagine what people would think of me.”

Cast your mind back a few years, and Reebok and Fila were not the sportswear powerhouses they have very recently become. Buying clothes from sports outlets was seen as poor in taste and in pocket (regardless of how much it actually cost you). To be seen in a tracksuit alone was to open yourself up to suppositions both about your economic and class status, and your fashion sense. To be seen in a bright pink, velvet tracksuit decorated with sequins and studs was (and still is), to commit both fashion and social suicide. Juicy’s velvet tracksuit, therefore, despite its early promise, soon became symbolic of tastes that were met with disdain by most people. What made matters worse, however, were judgements of the sort of tasteless person that the tracksuit came to represent. Bright pink, bright purple, covered in gold and silver and sparkles, the Juicy Couture identity is one of brash and unashamed femininity, but not the same femininity sold by most brands: Juicy’s proliferation of a woman in comfortable, not particularly sexy clothes, went against the grain of standard designer labels.

A woman to be so bold as to garb herself in emblems of the working class and of ‘womanhood’ (the logic of gendered colours and decorations is a debate worthy of an article of its own) is a woman exposed to the judgement of others. If I walked around college in a matching magenta Juicy number, I would only like to imagine what people would think of me (not, I must add, that this will stop me). The Couture velour tracksuit was ever more gradually devalued and became synonymous with one of the most marginalised identities in Britain: a working class woman. It didn’t matter that the tracksuits themselves were massively unaffordable because they were being made more cheaply and sold as knock-offs by more accessible brands.

It confuses me somewhat, that despite brands like Adidas, Reebok, and Ellesse seeing their profits soar in the past few years, Juicy and their products are still deemed chavvy or tasteless. The rising popularity of sportswear brands (which, in fact, also involves disregard and appropriation of the working class) has pushed the prices of products, particularly of a vintage persuasion, higher and higher. And yet the velvet tracksuit still sits, attracting dust, in two-thirds of the charity shops in North London alone. Was the image so greatly tarnished that it was an irreconcilable situation? Is there something to be said for their affiliation with femininity, compared particularly with the androgynous image offered by brands like Nike and Adidas?

Heirlooms: from me, to you, stylishly

Regardless, I think it is high time that we reconsidered our valuation of Juicy Couture’s velvet tracksuits. They provide unbeatably stylish comfort, albeit for an uncomfortable price. I know I’m not the only one that feels this way: one of my friends optimistically commented that she would “love it if they made a comeback.” I no longer want to see them abandoned in Cancer Research or hidden at the back of people’s wardrobes. Embrace the tackiness and the garish colours and take back ownership of the identity they incubate. Even if Juicy doesn’t quite go with your aesthetic, at least begin to appreciate the injustice in their discrimination. Velvet, colour, and glitter – what’s not to love?