What Dad Style Can Learn From Athletes, Musicians, and Politicians (Spoiler: It’s Not What You Think)

I’m standing in the Target checkout line last week, Sophie tugging on my pants leg while Jackson debates the merits of various candy bars, when the cashier – this kid who can’t be older than twenty-two – looks at my outfit and goes, “Oh, trying the LeBron look today?” I glance down at myself. Navy chinos, gray henley, navy blazer thrown over the top. Nothing fancy, nothing that screams “I spent more than five minutes getting dressed this morning,” but apparently it reminded him of something he’d seen the King wear courtside.

Here’s the thing though – he wasn’t wrong. I absolutely had seen LeBron in a similar combination during some post-game interview and filed it away in my mental “things that might work for a suburban dad” folder. Which got me thinking about how often I actually pull style ideas from random places, usually without even realizing it.

See, when you’re trying to look put-together on about four hours of sleep and a budget that accounts for the fact that small humans destroy everything you own, you start looking for inspiration wherever you can find it. And honestly? Some of the best ideas come from the most unexpected sources. Athletes who need to look good in front of cameras. Musicians who understand that how you look affects how people hear you. Politicians who know that every appearance matters, even if it’s just grabbing coffee.

The trick isn’t copying what these guys wear – trust me, I learned that lesson the hard way when I tried to recreate some musician’s layered look and ended up looking like I was wearing half my closet at once. No, the real value is figuring out what makes their approach work and adapting those principles for real life. For dad life, specifically.

Athletes taught me the most important lesson first, and it’s embarrassingly basic: dress for the body you actually have right now. Not the body you had in college, not the body you’re planning to have after you finally start that workout routine, but the one you’re living in today. Sounds obvious, right? Except I spent about three years after Jackson was born wearing clothes that fit me before I gained fifteen pounds from stress-eating goldfish crackers and grabbing whatever was fastest for lunch.

I remember watching some interview with Victor Cruz – you know, the former Giants receiver – and noticing how everything he wore actually fit his proportions. The guy’s got this athletic build with broad shoulders, but instead of fighting it or hiding it, his clothes worked with it. Meanwhile, I’m over here stuffing myself into medium shirts because that’s what I’ve always worn, even though I clearly needed a large. Lauren finally staged an intervention after seeing photos from Sophie’s birthday party. “Honey,” she said, “you look like you borrowed someone else’s clothes.” Not exactly the look I was going for.

Had to swallow my pride and actually get measured. Turns out I’d been wearing the wrong size in basically everything. Shirts, pants, even my damn socks were too small. It’s weird how attached you get to thinking of yourself as a certain size, like admitting you need a larger shirt means admitting defeat somehow. But once I started buying clothes that actually fit my current dad bod instead of my wishful-thinking bod, everything looked better immediately.

That’s the athlete lesson – they dress for their actual bodies, not some idealized version. And they’re consistent about it. Look at Russell Westbrook’s wild fashion choices. Half the stuff he wears would look ridiculous on me, but there’s always something recognizably Westbrook about it. He has a point of view, you know? Most of us think having style means buying specific brands or following trends, but it’s really about developing a consistent approach.

For me, it’s blazers. Even when I’m just running errands or going to Jackson’s soccer practice, I’ll throw an unstructured blazer over whatever I’m wearing. Started as pure practicality – I hate carrying bags but need somewhere to put my phone, wallet, keys, and whatever random stuff the kids hand me – but it became my thing. Lauren’s friends now text her when they see blazers on sale because “it’s so Patrick.” Having that one consistent element makes everything else easier.

Musicians taught me about proportion, which sounds fancy but really isn’t. It’s just paying attention to how different pieces work together instead of focusing on individual items. John Mayer’s had about forty different style phases, but what makes his outfits work is that he understands the relationship between his tops and bottoms. When he goes oversized on top, he balances it with something more fitted below, or vice versa.

I learned this through trial and error, mostly error. There was this phase where I got really into the relaxed fit trend after years of everything being too tight. Went full opposite direction – loose pants, loose shirts, everything flowing and comfortable. Thought I looked laid-back and modern. Turns out I looked like I was wearing pajamas to the grocery store. Jackson actually asked if I was sick because I “looked all droopy.”

The fix was simple once I figured it out. If I’m wearing looser pants, I tuck in my shirt or add a blazer to create some structure up top. If I want a relaxed shirt, I pair it with more fitted chinos. It’s about creating visual interest instead of just being one shapeless mass from shoulders to ankles. Which, let’s be honest, is easy to do when comfort becomes your primary concern.

Politicians might seem like weird style inspiration – I mean, most of them dress pretty boringly – but the good ones understand something crucial about appropriateness and subtle quality. Obama’s style evolution over his presidency was masterful. Same basic uniform, but gradually refined. Better fit, better fabrics, little details that added up to looking more polished without being flashy.

This hit home for me when I started doing more video calls during the pandemic. Had to upgrade my “work from home” wardrobe because apparently wearing the same three polos in rotation wasn’t cutting it for client presentations. Instead of buying a bunch of different shirts, I invested in fewer, better pieces. Two really good button-downs instead of five mediocre ones. The difference was immediate – same basic outfit, but I looked more professional, more put-together.

The political lesson is consistency with gradual improvement. Don’t try to reinvent yourself every season, just keep making your basics better. And always dress appropriately for the context, which sounds obvious but you’d be surprised how many guys show up overdressed or underdressed because they’ve got one approach to everything.

I see this at school events all the time. Guys showing up to casual playground meetups in full business attire because that’s what they wear to work, or dads wearing gym clothes to the school fundraiser because that’s what they wear on weekends. Having a few different modes – work appropriate, weekend casual, slightly dressy for events – doesn’t require a huge wardrobe, just thinking about the context.

All these public figures, whether they’re athletes, musicians, or politicians, share one crucial trait: they commit to whatever they’re wearing. No second-guessing, no visible discomfort, no apologizing for their choices. Half the battle with looking good is acting like you belong in your clothes.

I tested this theory at Lauren’s company holiday party last year. Wore this olive green suit I’d been nervous about – nothing crazy, just not the standard navy or gray everyone else would be wearing. Spent the first hour feeling self-conscious until her boss complimented it, and I realized my uncertainty was making me slouch and fidget. Once I relaxed and stopped worrying about standing out, the whole thing worked better.

But here’s the important part – there are definitely public figure style moves that absolutely don’t translate to dad life in the suburbs. I’m not about to show up at Jackson’s parent-teacher conference dressed like I’m walking a red carpet. The extreme fashion week looks that some athletes break out are purely for entertainment. The stage costumes musicians wear are performance art. The full politician uniform of flag pins and power ties is overkill for presenting quarterly reports to your team.

The skill is knowing what to borrow and what to leave alone. Take the principles, not the specific outfits. Extract the underlying approach, not the final result.

From athletes, I borrowed the focus on proper fit and consistency. Everything I own now fits my actual body, and I have a signature element (those blazers) that makes getting dressed easier. From musicians, I learned about balancing proportions and paying attention to how pieces work together. From politicians, I adopted the idea that appropriateness matters and that gradual quality improvements beat constant reinvention.

My buddy Mike has this down to a science, even though he claims he doesn’t care about fashion. He’ll see some celebrity outfit and immediately identify what’s useful: “I like how his jacket hits right at his belt line” or “Those colors work together because they’re all muted.” He’s extracting principles instead of getting distracted by the specific clothes, which is exactly the right approach.

The bigger lesson here is that how you dress communicates something whether you intend it to or not. Athletes use their appearance to project confidence and professionalism. Musicians use clothing to express creativity and personality. Politicians use their wardrobe to show respect for their audience and the occasion.

What are your clothes saying about you? For me, I want them to communicate that I’m a dad who’s present and engaged with his kids but also takes care of himself. Someone who’s practical but hasn’t completely given up on looking decent. The suburban dad who clearly showered today and put in just enough effort to look intentional.

It’s not about having a massive budget or following every trend. Most of us will never have stylists or clothing allowances that rival small countries’ defense budgets. But we can approach getting dressed with the same intentionality as people who do. We can think about what we’re communicating and make those messages deliberate instead of accidental.

And sometimes that means wearing a henley with a blazer because you saw LeBron do something similar and thought, “Yeah, that could work for school pickup.” Just don’t be surprised when the Target cashier calls you out on it. Though honestly, if a twenty-two-year-old retail worker thinks I’m channeling an NBA superstar, I’m probably doing something right.