Why I’m Finally Ready to Move Beyond My Technical Hoodie Collection (And What’s Coming Next)

I was nursing my third coffee at this little spot in Northwest Portland last Saturday, people-watching the usual parade of weekend warriors, when something clicked. Every single dude walking by looked… identical. Performance joggers, tech hoodies, limited sneakers. The barista, the guy with the Golden Retriever, the dude who definitely just rolled out of a Tesla – same basic uniform. And honestly? I was wearing practically the same thing.

That’s when it hit me – we’ve completely maxed out on the athleisure thing. Like, when your accountant and your personal trainer are wearing essentially the same outfit to different activities, maybe we’ve reached some kind of cultural saturation point.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m absolutely part of the problem. I’m sitting here in Lululemon pants that could theoretically handle a hot yoga session but will probably just endure my walk home and maybe some aggressive couch sitting. I’ve got like twelve hoodies from different “performance lifestyle” brands that all basically serve the same function. And yeah, the athleisure wave has been pretty great for guys like me. Made everything more comfortable, gave us permission to care about how our clothes fit without feeling weird about it.

But after almost ten years of stretch fabrics dominating everything, I’m starting to see cracks in the foundation. The pendulum always swings in fashion – I learned that the hard way during my hypebeast phase – and I’ve been tracking some subtle shifts that suggest we’re moving into whatever comes after athleisure.

So what’s next? Based on conversations with friends who actually know what they’re talking about, plus some early trends I’m seeing, here’s where I think men’s style is headed.

First thing – we’re not going backward to uncomfortable clothes. That ship has sailed. Once you discover the joy of four-way stretch, there’s no returning to stiff pants and shirts that restrict your movement. But what I’m seeing emerge is this more sophisticated integration of performance elements into traditional-looking pieces. Emma calls it “stealth comfort” which honestly isn’t a bad way to put it.

I first noticed this shift at this menswear trade show I went to last year – don’t ask me why I was there, long story involving a freelance project. Anyway, these Italian brands were showing suits and blazers that looked completely traditional but were made with technical fabrics. The cuts were relaxed but intentional. Nothing sloppy. This one rep handed me what looked like a regular herringbone jacket and told me to try to wrinkle it. I literally crumpled it up for like a minute, and when I let go, it just bounced back to perfect condition. “Not your grandfather’s tweed,” the guy said with this smug Italian smile.

The key difference is that these new pieces don’t scream “PERFORMANCE FABRIC” at you. They’re subtle about their technical properties. It’s the complete opposite of those early days when everyone wanted you to know they were wearing $150 yoga pants to Whole Foods.

My friend Marcus – he’s a buyer for this high-end store downtown – explained it to me over beers a few weeks ago. “We’re moving from ‘dress like you might work out later’ to ‘dress like you have your shit together but stay comfortable doing it.'” His store’s bestselling pants this season are five-pocket styles that look like normal chinos but have all this hidden stretch and moisture-wicking stuff built in.

Another thing I’m noticing is natural materials making a comeback, but enhanced versions. Merino wool is having a moment because it’s natural, biodegradable, doesn’t smell weird after wearing it all day, and regulates temperature. Brands are treating these natural fabrics to perform better without making them feel synthetic.

Last fall I visited this small factory outside Asheville – another work project – and they’re doing these canvas work jackets that repel water but still age and fade like regular canvas. The founder showed me these fabric samples and said, “People want materials with soul that also perform. They’re tired of looking like astronauts just to go grab lunch.”

That gets at another shift I’m seeing – guys want their clothes to develop character over time. Athletic wear is designed to look exactly the same after every wash. But traditional materials change, fade, get better with age. After years of technical fabrics that remain stubbornly pristine, there’s something appealing about breaking in raw denim or watching a leather jacket develop its own personality.

I’ve noticed this even among my most tech-forward friends. My buddy Trevor – who was wearing Outlier before anyone knew what it was – showed up to dinner recently in selvedge jeans and a chambray work shirt. When I gave him shit about abandoning the future, he just shrugged. “Got tired of looking like I was perpetually about to run a marathon. Wanted some texture in my life.”

This texture thing is showing up in colors and patterns too. After years of athleisure’s blacks, grays, and navy (with maybe some neon if you were feeling wild), men’s fashion is embracing visual interest again. Not crazy patterns, but subtle textures – small checks, faded stripes, interesting weaves. Like we collectively realized that looking like minimalist robots all the time gets boring.

There’s also this reaction against athleisure’s built-in newness. Technical fabrics look best fresh out of the package – that’s literally their selling point. But I’m seeing more appreciation for worn-in, vintage-inspired pieces that feel like they have history. Three different heritage workwear brands have gone from nearly dead to impossible-to-get waitlists just in the past year and a half.

This vintage store owner I know in LA told me his business has doubled since 2021, mostly guys in their twenties buying old work jackets and faded flannel shirts. “They’re over disposable fashion,” he said. “They want a jacket that looks like it has stories.”

This vintage influence is even hitting sneakers, which is wild. After years of futuristic designs with knit uppers and chunky soles, the most hyped releases lately have been retro models or new designs that reference old-school styles. The whole aesthetic is shifting away from “future athlete” toward something more grounded.

Silhouettes are changing too. Athleisure was all about streamlined, body-conscious fits even when it was relaxed. What’s emerging now is more generous, draped approaches to casual clothing. Not sloppy oversized, but intentionally relaxed. I never thought I’d say this, but pleated pants are back. Shirts have more fabric. Even blazers are getting softer shoulders and more natural shapes.

I saw this evolution clearly at a presentation for this Japanese-American brand known for technical gear. Their new collection had wide-leg hemp-cotton pants paired with boxy overshirts in natural dyes. “We’re still using performance fabrics,” the designer explained, “but cutting them more generously. Men want freedom of movement without looking gym-ready.”

If I had to name what’s replacing pure athleisure, I’d call it “considered casual” – clothing that’s comfortable and functional but more visually interesting than performance wear. Technical elements are still there, they’re just not the main event.

This shift isn’t happening everywhere at the same speed. I was in San Francisco for a tech conference last month and performance wear still dominated – though even there I noticed more texture and natural fabrics creeping in. Meanwhile, when I was in Nashville recently, the post-athleisure world was already happening, with guys mixing vintage workwear and subtle technical pieces in ways that felt natural.

Age plays a role too. My younger brother Jake, who’s 26 and works in marketing, never fully bought into athleisure like my generation did. He and his friends went straight from college sweatpants to what he calls “actual clothes that don’t suck to wear” – pieces with some performance properties but traditional appearances. When I asked him about it, he shrugged. “Dressing like you’re always about to work out feels very millennial. We want to look like adults but still be comfortable.”

Brutal but fair.

What does this mean for your actual wardrobe? You don’t need to burn your performance gear – it’s not disappearing, just evolving and being integrated differently. Those technical chinos that look like regular pants will stick around. The basketball shorts as weekend wear probably won’t, thank god. And you’ll probably find yourself drawn to more textured, natural fabrics as better options hit the market.

Brands are adapting fast. Even the major athleisure companies are pivoting. Lululemon’s doing oxford shirts with subtle stretch now. Meanwhile, traditional menswear brands are incorporating performance elements more skillfully – less “check out our stretch technology” and more “these wool pants happen to be stain-resistant.”

The most interesting stuff is happening in that middle space between technical brands adding style and heritage brands adding function. That’s where the sweet spot exists – clothing with substance and character that still works for modern life.

I experienced this shift personally last month when I cleaned out my closet and realized I owned seven nearly identical pairs of black performance pants. Seven! Each time I’d bought a new pair, I’d convinced myself it was somehow different. As I bagged most of them for donation, I felt ready for something new – still comfortable and functional, but more interesting. More me.

Because that’s what’s driving this change – the desire for more personal expression after years in comfortable uniforms. We embraced athleisure partly because it was easy, a simplified way to dress well without thinking too hard. But easy eventually becomes boring. And despite stereotypes, guys don’t actually want to be boring dressers. We want comfort, but we also want character. Style. Something that reflects who we are.

The post-athleisure world promises both. After a decade in performance fabrics, I’m ready for clothes that perform but also speak. Even if it means occasionally dealing with wrinkles again.