Lacrosse Fashion 35 Years Ago: Worn-In Gear, Off-Field Swagger, and a Lifestyle of Legacy
Thirty five years ago, lacrosse players had a style that went far beyond the field. It wasn’t just about the gear they wore during the game—it was the attitude they carried with them everywhere else. From iconic pinnies to beat-up lanyards hanging from their pockets, lacrosse players had an off-field uniform, and it mattered just as much as what they wore during games. The look wasn’t flashy, but it was authentic, worn-in, and told you everything you needed to know about the sport and the person wearing it.
The White Hat with Three Bars:
The Ultimate Badge of Honor
Nothing said “lacrosse player” quite like the white hat with the three bars—college name on top, “lacrosse” underneath. The thing is, these hats didn’t just sit pretty on a shelf. They had to be worn, weathered, and beaten into submission. A stiff, clean hat? Nah, that wouldn’t cut it. The older it got, the better it looked. You’d see these hats lose their shape over time, getting more character with each season. They were bent, faded, and molded to the player’s head perfectly. It was more than just a cap—it was a badge of honor that said, “Yeah, I’ve been around.” New players had no chance of faking it; that level of wear and tear could only be earned.
The Boathouse Jacket: From Rowing to Lacrosse Royalty
Another staple was the Boathouse jacket, originally made for rowers but quickly adopted by lacrosse players. Most people forgot that these jackets used to have a weird flap at the bottom that rowers would sit on while in the boat. Lacrosse players? They ditched that and made it their own. Team name proudly stretched across the back, with “lacrosse” written underneath, the jacket was an essential. You didn’t just wear it to practice—it became part of your identity. Whether you were heading to the dining hall or strolling across campus, that lightweight windbreaker was a must. If you didn’t have one, were you even on the team?
Lacrosse Shorts:
Bizarrely Appropriate for Everything
The lacrosse shorts with stripes down the side were something else. Originally for the field, these shorts made their way into everyday life. Heading to class? Wear the shorts. Going to a party? Shorts again. Bizarrely, they felt appropriate for literally any occasion. The unspoken rule was this: if you played, you wore them everywhere. If you didn’t play lacrosse and dared to put them on, well, let’s just say you wouldn’t hear the end of it. Those shorts were sacred, and you had to earn the right to wear them.
The Pinnies:
The Unofficial Uniform
Of course, the pinnie was king. Worn without a shirt underneath—because why would you bother with that?—the pinnie was the ultimate off-field statement. Originally for scrimmages and practice, it became essential for hanging out, hitting the gym, or just lounging in the summer heat. Customized with team logos or funny nicknames, these mesh jerseys were lightweight, breathable, and perfect for almost any occasion. You might not be on the field, but the pinnie said you were ready to go at a moment’s notice.
The “War-Torn” Gear Look
Then there was the worn-down, beat-up gear that every real lacrosse player had. Brand-new equipment? No thanks. If your pockets weren’t fraying or your arm pads weren’t held together with hope and duct tape, were you even playing? The more tattered your gear looked, the more battle-tested you were. Helmets often had bizarre extra chin pads added on for no apparent reason, and yet it all made sense in the lacrosse world. Pristine gear was for rookies; veterans wore their wear and tear like a badge of honor. It wasn’t just about playing—it was about looking like you’d survived the grind.
The Lanyards:
The Subtle Flex
Hanging out of your pocket was your lanyard, usually from STX or Brine. It wasn’t just for holding your keys—it was part of your identity. You didn’t need to say anything; the lanyard did the talking. It swung with every step, a quiet flex that told everyone you were part of the lacrosse community. No flash, no fuss—just that casual, understated confidence that came with being a lacrosse player.
The STX Stickers:
The Mysterious Helmet Decoration
Speaking of STX, let’s talk about the STX stickers that came with every gear order. For some reason, these ended up stuck on the most random things—lockers, water bottles, notebooks—but the weirdest placement of all? The helmet. You’d see them stuck right on the top of the helmet. Why? Who knows. It didn’t make sense, but that’s just how it was. Somehow, slapping that sticker on your helmet felt right, even if it had no purpose whatsoever.
Big Johnson in the Crease:
Lacrosse Meets 90s Rebellion
Ah, the “Big Johnson in the Crease” lacrosse T-shirt—an unapologetic piece of 90s nostalgia that took sports culture and tossed it into the blender with frat-house humor. It wasn’t just a nod to the game; it was a billboard for those who thrived on pushing the limits of good taste. Lacrosse lingo like “in the crease” morphed into a cheeky innuendo, plastered across a shirt that practically dared you to take offense. You didn’t wear it for subtlety—you wore it for the raised eyebrows, the eye-rolls, and the silent nod from anyone who got the joke. It was brash, juvenile, and perfectly ridiculous, embodying that carefree, rebellious spirit that permeated the 90s. Like the beat-up pinnie you refused to replace, this shirt wasn’t just fashion—it was a badge of honor for those who lived the game and loved the absurd.
Lacrosse Fashion:
A Lifestyle, Not a Look
The beauty of lacrosse fashion 30 years ago was that it wasn’t just about clothes—it was about culture. The worn-down hats, the lacrosse shorts you’d wear everywhere, the Boathouse jacket with the team name on the back—all of it spoke to a lifestyle. You didn’t just play lacrosse; you lived it. Every piece of gear, every fraying string, every extra chin pad on your helmet had a story behind it.
It wasn’t about being flashy or trendy. It was about authenticity. It was about belonging to a tribe. You earned your worn-out pinnie. You earned those shorts. And every ripped pocket or battered arm pad was proof that you’d put in the work. So, if your gear looked like it had been through a battle, that’s because it had. And that was the point.
