The thunderous arrival of the ”Syna World” into the fashion world was a silent rude gesture against British casual wear. In effect, never just a label, it is rather an idea felt simmering in the air above the great city of London and even across in the somewhat artistic town of Manchester. It is not tracksuit weather for school runs and lazy Sundays; for Syna World, “Tracksuit” stands for loud streetwear as a genuine medium of self-expression while holding the seven paramount values of comfort in great esteem. Perhaps, the modern-day “uniform” would feel equally comfortable in manifestation at a Shoreditch café or tramping up the Peak District.
Till very recently, tracksuits were something of a fashion that never quite took off in Britain. For a while, there was this cultural tug-of-war going on-the tracksuit went either way: It was either meant to be a sort of sleek Adidas tracksuit, worn by footballers, or the whole set of derogatory images-fostered in its negativity and usually sponsored by the courtesy of the media. Fashion-alike culture-changes with time. There also seemed to have been that very slight ray of hope, injected possibly by the very presence of luxury sportswear, though which at times felt paradoxically far away and unachievable for the lower strata. Something gritty, the real-neighbourhood kind of thing, was missing at that stage. Syna World then came forth to identify the abysmal circle. They didn’t just market tracksuits; they created an entire culture around them. It is probably the complete opposite, in all meanings of that word: putting on one is definitely not about trying to be an athlete or lip-service to some idea of luxury; instead, it is about the wholehearted possibility of forging a collective identity very much like the burgeoning UK music scene whereby grime artistes come out of their ends, headline Glasto, and prove that being real weighs.
One wonders: just how does one really distinguish this sports suit from some million others? Shatted upon those slight design touches that herald the utmost quality. The fit first. It should never bear anything oversized, even approaching baggy; nor can it impersonate a tight-fitting uncomfortably. It touts an almost deliberately casual fit-that kind of fit which embraces you and yet never robs you of the languid charge for which it advertises. The fabric comes second. It is not something cheap and feather-light; in fact, it is a nylon that cries with every movement. Heavyweight cotton blends worthy of premium labeling, a treat to touch, drapes broadly-and ages much like one fine old Barbour telling its own tales with every frayment. Fame, coupled with the brand, lays the trademark right in front of the design, at times probably keeping it a tad subtle and toned down-almost like some sort of proud statement of belonging-that are proudly held by all who appreciate it.
Just like there still needs to be an intangible reason behind whole friend groups picking the Syna World Tracksuit. Carrying the same philosophy, the phrase “Syna tracksuit” could have been said to capture everything that the Sun Badge once terrorized upon the football terraces-if only with a modern, easy-going spirit. A much better way to look at it is to take those tracksuits from just stereotypical and cold uniforms and consider them blank canvases instead. In turn, the feet may tell stories with Neutrals, New Balance, chunky Air Force 1s, and some horrendously vigilant designer trainers. Your bags and attitude make your name known. Therein lies a restless world where people strive to cling together under some kind of general visual language that asserts “we belong.” Such a feeling is as eternal as that oft-cited Shakespearean line: “The apparel oft proclaims the man”. Today, The Syna tracksuit conveys the intention of the new man who cherishes communities, demands comfort, and cries for quality simultaneously. It’s about more than just wear-it’s about the company it keeps.