New uniforms unveiled by Adidas. Adidas


And sure, I hesitate a little bit to talk about these uniforms, because the whole point of these uniforms is to get people to talk about them, and by talking about them, I am slipping right into the clever, diabolical plan, a howling cog in a slick publicity operation. I am a tool and a sucker! Not to mention I will sound like a crabby old man on a park bench, holding two fistfuls of sunflower seeds, yelling at the pigeons.

But whatever. I can't help it. I will be the tool. I will yell at the pigeons. These uniforms are silly.

The uniforms are pictured here. They're from Adidas. I know these aren't the first ugly college basketball uniforms and they won't be the last. They are not the worst college basketball uniforms, not even close. In the mid-1990s the University of Kentucky Wildcats wore some denim-style uniforms that resembled the kind of thing you would put on a cat on its way to a Garth Brooks concert. Kansas State had two-tone purple uniforms that looked like Barney sharing a bunk-bed with Grimace. Baylor University has been wearing bright yellow neon uniforms that can be seen comfortably from Saturn.

And I don't despise new uniforms as a rule. I secretly like those neon Baylor uniforms. I liked those deeply wild football uniforms Under Armour did for the University of Maryland, the ones that split the state flag like Harvey Two-Face. I almost always like the uniform absurdities that come from the University of Oregon, which are outrageous but also Bowie-esque and possibly hallucinogenic. That's the right kind of creative crazy.

These new basketball outfits are the wrong kind of crazy. The fashion victims here are Cincinnati, Kansas, Notre Dame, Baylor, UCLA, and Louisville. They will be worn as the 2013 postseason begins. According to a news release from Adidas, they feature "quick drying Revolution 30 technology" and "ClimaCool Zones" and "limited-edition impact camo design" and other terms that must sound amazing in an elevator full of marketers. But someone has to actually wear this stuff. Look at the players in this picture. Do they seem excited to you? No. They look like they've been drafted en masse by the Charlotte Bobcats.

There has been a lot of chatter about how these uniforms appear to be inspired by the regrettable early '90s sportswear brand Zubaz, and I guess that's amusing in some kind of ironic way, but the ironic Zubaz revival has been old news for a while. (Also: must every fashion statement be revived? We need more Zubaz like we need more Color Me Badd.) The youth pandering is obvious: these uniforms are for designed for third-graders who have just washed down a case of Ring-Dings with a case of Mountain Dew. They are desperate to be cool to a demographic that doesn't yet know what is cool. I don't even know what to do with the short sleeves.

Mostly, this change provokes sympathy. How I feel for the Bruins of UCLA! Kansas fans are already petitioning the White House to stop the new Jayhawk uniforms. Careful observers noted that tradition-obsessed Indiana is an Adidas school; where's the wacky Hoosier revamp? (Journal college sports reporter Rachel Bachman reached out to Indiana, where a rep replied: "We wouldn't consider a change.")

It's the Notre Dame uniform that's really the piece de resistance, no? I don't even think of basketball. All I want is a Shamrock Shake.

Adidas is capable of sublime design. It designed the greatest two tennis sneakers in the history of humankind, the Rod Laver and the Stan Smith. The company's trefoil logo is an iconic piece of art. It does many other things well. But less is always more, and these uniforms are more, more, more. Public freakout is part of the formula. You can't help but suspect that this is what happens when schools go in for the big sponsorship agreements. They become part of a bigger machine.

This is a minor tempest to be sure. I'm sure I sound like a loopy hyena. I know I'm making too big a deal of it. These uniforms will be ridiculed on social media for a while and do their job of grabbing brief attention. Adidas will sell some gear, and it will come and go, probably soon to be forgotten. But the devolution of design isn't usually a single abrupt act. It is a slow drip of surrenders and alterations until you no longer recognize something you once loved. It is why office buildings looks like shoe boxes and people walk onto airplanes dressed to weed the garden. Style matters. Design counts. OK I'll go yell at the pigeons now.

Write to Jason Gay at