I was standing in line at my local coffee shop last Tuesday when the barista—a guy maybe 23, 24 tops—nodded at my outfit and said, “Trying to dress like LeBron today?” I was wearing a simple navy suit with a crewneck sweater instead of a shirt and tie. Nothing revolutionary. Nothing that screamed “basketball superstar.” But he wasn’t entirely wrong, either. I had seen James wear a similar combination courtside a few weeks earlier and filed it away mentally as something to try.
This kind of style borrowing happens more than most of us care to admit. We see someone—an athlete, musician, actor, politician—pull something off and think, “I could do that.” Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t, and figuring out which public figure style moves translate to regular life is an ongoing experiment for me.
I’ve spent fifteen years analyzing menswear professionally, and here’s what I’ve concluded: the best style inspiration often comes from unlikely sources, and the most valuable lessons aren’t always the most obvious ones. The trick is identifying what specific elements make someone look good and adapting those principles rather than copying the entire look.
Take athletes, for example. Most of us will never have their physical proportions (thank god for off-the-rack suits), but their approach to dressing offers surprising lessons for regular guys. The most stylish athletes understand something crucial: they dress for their actual bodies, not for some imagined ideal form or passing trend.
Look at someone like retired NFL player Victor Cruz. The man consistently dresses for his athletic build rather than fighting against it. When most guys with his shoulder-to-waist ratio would be drowning in fabric or squeezed into uncomfortable proportions, Cruz wears clothes that actually fit him. It sounds ridiculously simple, but the number of men I see wearing the wrong size is staggering. They’re buying for their identity (“I’m a medium”) rather than their reality.
I experienced this myself after dropping twenty pounds a few years back (a regimen I started after seeing photos of myself at a friend’s wedding and realizing my “slightly oversized” look was actually just “ill-fitting”). I stubbornly kept buying the same sizes until my friend Marcus, never one to spare my feelings, said bluntly: “Jack, you’re swimming in that shirt. You’re not that size anymore.” It was weirdly hard to accept that I was now a different size—as if I’d somehow be betraying my identity by buying smaller clothes.
That’s the first translatable lesson from athletes: dress for the body you have now, not the one you used to have or wish you had. Have your measurements taken. Try sizing down (or up). Ignore the tag size—no one can see it, but everyone can see if your clothes don’t fit.
Athletes also teach us about the power of consistent personal style. Russell Westbrook might make some wild fashion choices, but there’s always a recognizable Westbrook-ness to what he wears. He has a point of view. Most guys think developing personal style means owning certain brands or specific pieces, but it’s more about having a consistent approach—a signature. Maybe yours is always having interesting socks, or never wearing less than three textures, or always choosing unusual colors for basic items.
For me, it’s sport coats. Even in the most casual situations, I’ll usually have an unstructured jacket. It started as a practical choice—I like pockets and hate carrying bags—but became my signature over time. Friends now text me when they see good jackets on sale because “it’s very you.” Find your thing and lean into it.
Musicians offer different lessons entirely. Say what you will about the wilder aspects of music style, but the best-dressed artists understand something most regular guys don’t: the power of silhouette and proportion.
Look at someone like John Mayer, who’s gone through more style evolutions than most of us have had jobs. What makes his looks work—whether it’s workwear or hippie chic or Japanese streetwear—is his attention to proportion. The relationship between his tops and bottoms always feels intentional. When he wears something oversized, it’s balanced by something fitted. When he goes loose and drapey all over, the fabrics and colors create necessary structure.
I learned this lesson the hard way at a fashion week party several years ago. I’d recently bought into the looser-fit trend after years of skinny everything and showed up in wide-leg trousers and an oversized button-down, thinking I looked perfectly on-trend. My friend Diana, a stylist, took one look and said, “You need to pick a struggle. Loose pants or loose shirt—not both, unless you’re going for the pajama vibe.” She made me tuck in the shirt and suddenly the whole proportional relationship changed. The outfit looked intentional rather than sloppy.
That’s the key musician lesson: pay attention to the total silhouette, not just individual pieces. Most guys focus entirely on each separate item being “nice” without considering how they work together proportionally. Try the mirror-and-phone test: stand in front of a mirror, take a step back, and snap a picture. Look at your silhouette objectively. Are you all one shape from shoulders to ankles? That’s rarely the goal.
Politicians might seem like strange style icons—many are famously unstylish—but the good ones understand something crucial: the importance of appropriateness and the power of subtle refinement.
Former President Obama’s style evolution offers a master class in this. Early in his first campaign, his suits were fine but forgettable. By his second term, the subtle improvements in fit, fabric quality, and proportions made him look like the most powerful man in the room without ever seeming flashy. The changes were almost imperceptible individually, but the cumulative effect was significant.
What was his secret? Consistency with small refinements. The same basic uniform, gradually improved. He wasn’t reinventing himself seasonally—he was perfecting his essentials. For regular guys without celebrity budgets, this approach is gold: invest in making your everyday items better rather than chasing trends.
I applied this when overhauling my own basics. Instead of buying six different oxford shirts from mid-range brands, I saved up for two from a higher-quality maker with better fabric and construction. The difference was immediately noticeable—not in a flashy way, but in how much better I looked in the same basic outfit. My old college roommate David noticed it over dinner: “You’re wearing the same stuff as always, but somehow it looks… more expensive?”
The political lesson: appropriateness and quality speak volumes. Dress for the context, but make sure the basics are as good as you can afford. And remember that consistency with small improvements yields better results than constant reinvention.
There are cross-category lessons too. Whether athlete, musician, or politician, the most stylish public figures understand their environmental context and dress accordingly. LeBron James doesn’t dress the same way for a post-game interview as he does for a foundation gala. Jack White’s stage outfits differ from his street clothes. Politicians have weekend casualwear distinct from their workday suits.
Most regular guys, meanwhile, have one mode of dressing that they apply to wildly different situations. I’ve lost count of how many friends I’ve had to drag shopping the week before a wedding because they suddenly realized their “nice clothes” weren’t actually appropriate for a formal event. Context matters, and having small wardrobes for different environments is more important than having a large wardrobe overall.
Another universal public figure lesson: confidence sells anything. Half of why famous people look good in clothes is that they commit fully to whatever they’re wearing. There’s no second-guessing or visible discomfort. Regular guys often undermine potentially great outfits by looking uncomfortable in them.
I’ve experimented with this myself. Last year, I wore a fairly bold suit to an industry event—olive green with a subtle check, nothing crazy by fashion standards but definitely noticeable in a sea of navy and gray. I felt self-conscious until a colleague complimented it, and I realized my discomfort was affecting how I carried myself. The suit wasn’t the problem; my hesitancy was. Once I committed mentally, the entire effect changed.
That said, there are some public figure style moves that absolutely do not translate to everyday life. No regular guy should attempt the extreme fashion week looks that athletes break out for the cameras. No one needs to copy a musician’s stage outfit for a Tuesday at the office. And unless you’re actually campaigning for office, the full politician uniform of flag pin and power tie is probably overkill for your presentation to the marketing team.
The key is understanding what translates and what doesn’t. Borrow principles, not specific outfits. Take inspiration from the underlying approach, not the final result.
Some practical examples? From athletes, borrow their emphasis on proper fit, their willingness to tailor everything, and their consistency. From musicians, take their understanding of proportion, their comfort with experimentation, and their attention to details like jewelry and accessories that add personality. From politicians, adapt their focus on appropriateness, quality basics, and subtle sophistication.
I’ve found that the most successful style borrowers are guys who can analyze why something works rather than just what the something is. My friend Eric, who couldn’t care less about fashion but always looks good, has this uncanny ability to see a celebrity outfit and extract just the usable parts for his real life. “I like how his jacket hits at the hip, not below it,” he’ll say, or “The colors work because they’re all dusty, not bright.” He’s identifying principles, not products.
Ultimately, the best style lesson from public figures might be their understanding that appearance is part of communication. How you dress sends signals whether you intend it to or not, so they make those signals intentional. The athlete’s fitted suit communicates physical confidence. The musician’s proportional play signals creative thinking. The politician’s appropriate attire shows respect for the occasion and the audience.
What are your clothes communicating? That’s a question worth asking, whether you’re a global basketball star or just a guy trying to make a good impression at work. Because while most of us will never have a stylist or a clothing budget that rivals the GDP of a small nation, we can all approach getting dressed with the same intentionality as those who do.
And sometimes, that means wearing a crewneck with your suit because you saw LeBron do it and thought, “Yeah, I could pull that off.” Just don’t be surprised when the barista calls you out on it.
