Away the lads: put your shirt on another England own goal
The change strip for the World Cup was unveiled this week by Kasabian, to a crescendo of boos while onstage in Paris
By Marina Hyde
As the World Cup approaches, it gets harder and harder to resist the notion that Umbro is not so much the England kit supplier as a wicked parodist working not simply to ridicule the national side from within, but to reflect back at the nation what it sees as its most self-regarding delusions.
Back in March, you may recall, the sportswear firm unveiled the new England strip with what this column judged the type of fanfare normally reserved for the development of a cancer vaccine. When the big debut happened, it was basically revealed to be a polo shirt. Or was it? "The detail is in the minutiae," mused Umbro's chief designer, "even down to the spacing on the ventilation holes. The configuration of the holes is actually taken from the position of some of the roses on the three lions crest. It's a bit of a Da Vinci Code, a "rose code" if you like."
The shirt will ultimately become a major motion picture, but until then the challenge for Umbro has been to find a way to top that last iconic event. On Monday, the company managed it. England's away strip was unveiled in Paris. By Kasabian.
In case you imagined this to be a particularly distorted Chinese whisper, I shall set out the facts as we know them. After much consideration, Umbro decided that the cleverest – dare I say the coolest – way to reveal the new England away kit would be to unveil it in front of lots of French people who had paid to see a Kasabian concert. To this end, the band's lead singer Tom Meighan returned to the stage for the encore wearing the shirt – a move which said to the presumably bemused French fans "look upon our away strip, and despair". Or, "we are a nation of vainglorious pricks, even compared to you lot, which is saying something". Quelle finale.
I need hardly tell you that the shirt is the polyester equivalent of droning on about 1966, being fashioned to recall those iconic shirts in modern technology. Or as Umbro's pretentious screeds about the concept it capitalises as "England Away" have it, "the sleeves require an articulation concept in order to work with the body".
But you may be still be wondering: why Kasabian? "[Umbro] said they wanted to take it away from the footballers for once and do something up to date," Meighan said. "They wanted to combine with rock'n'roll."
For those who assume that it's more that Umbro didn't want to combine with anyone who might be on the front of the News of the World come Sunday, your cynicism staggers me. This isn't just a shirt. You see, this is an attempt to singlehandedly overhaul the image of the British tourist via the medium of sportswear.
Alas, the fabled Englishman abroad has for some time now ceased to be epitomised by that debonair charmer David Niven. For many of those nations lucky to have hosted him (and indeed her), the Englishman abroad is that creature whose epithets are public urinator, thrower of cafeteria furniture, wearer of Sun-branded plastic Tommy helmets. No longer. "For the new England away shirt," explains Umbro, "we wanted to look at re-imagining the concept of the Englishman abroad." Good luck with that, but go on. "We wanted to shine a light on modern Englishness and its cultural impact across the globe. And we did it with the greatest cultural export from these isles – music."
"And so, on a wintry February night, Kasabian walk out to commence their encore," pants Umbro. "The first bars of Fire ring out and the hall erupts – singer Tom stands proud in the shirt and a few thousand Frenchmen jammed into the beautiful Paris Olympia, hot and screaming for more, see England Away. The chorus comes around, the masses rise from the floor and in broken English the words ring out across the crowd, 'I'm on Fire … !'"
According to less parti pris reports, and indeed the official video clip of the moment posted on Umbro's own site, the unveiling was greeted with loud boos, which is rather more understandable. Were you to attend a concert by Air at Brixton Academy, only to discover that their finale was to unveil France's new away strip, you might question why they were acting like such plonkers (even Johnny Hallyday couldn't pull that move off).
All of which suggests that the launch of England Away is just another poignantly overblown way of sticking two fingers up at foreign inferiors, only to backfire as Englishmen slink home from abroad accused of overweening pride. We must congratulate Umbro on another wily satire.
The change strip for the World Cup was unveiled this week by Kasabian, to a crescendo of boos while onstage in Paris
By Marina Hyde
As the World Cup approaches, it gets harder and harder to resist the notion that Umbro is not so much the England kit supplier as a wicked parodist working not simply to ridicule the national side from within, but to reflect back at the nation what it sees as its most self-regarding delusions.
Back in March, you may recall, the sportswear firm unveiled the new England strip with what this column judged the type of fanfare normally reserved for the development of a cancer vaccine. When the big debut happened, it was basically revealed to be a polo shirt. Or was it? "The detail is in the minutiae," mused Umbro's chief designer, "even down to the spacing on the ventilation holes. The configuration of the holes is actually taken from the position of some of the roses on the three lions crest. It's a bit of a Da Vinci Code, a "rose code" if you like."
The shirt will ultimately become a major motion picture, but until then the challenge for Umbro has been to find a way to top that last iconic event. On Monday, the company managed it. England's away strip was unveiled in Paris. By Kasabian.
In case you imagined this to be a particularly distorted Chinese whisper, I shall set out the facts as we know them. After much consideration, Umbro decided that the cleverest – dare I say the coolest – way to reveal the new England away kit would be to unveil it in front of lots of French people who had paid to see a Kasabian concert. To this end, the band's lead singer Tom Meighan returned to the stage for the encore wearing the shirt – a move which said to the presumably bemused French fans "look upon our away strip, and despair". Or, "we are a nation of vainglorious pricks, even compared to you lot, which is saying something". Quelle finale.
I need hardly tell you that the shirt is the polyester equivalent of droning on about 1966, being fashioned to recall those iconic shirts in modern technology. Or as Umbro's pretentious screeds about the concept it capitalises as "England Away" have it, "the sleeves require an articulation concept in order to work with the body".
But you may be still be wondering: why Kasabian? "[Umbro] said they wanted to take it away from the footballers for once and do something up to date," Meighan said. "They wanted to combine with rock'n'roll."
For those who assume that it's more that Umbro didn't want to combine with anyone who might be on the front of the News of the World come Sunday, your cynicism staggers me. This isn't just a shirt. You see, this is an attempt to singlehandedly overhaul the image of the British tourist via the medium of sportswear.
Alas, the fabled Englishman abroad has for some time now ceased to be epitomised by that debonair charmer David Niven. For many of those nations lucky to have hosted him (and indeed her), the Englishman abroad is that creature whose epithets are public urinator, thrower of cafeteria furniture, wearer of Sun-branded plastic Tommy helmets. No longer. "For the new England away shirt," explains Umbro, "we wanted to look at re-imagining the concept of the Englishman abroad." Good luck with that, but go on. "We wanted to shine a light on modern Englishness and its cultural impact across the globe. And we did it with the greatest cultural export from these isles – music."
"And so, on a wintry February night, Kasabian walk out to commence their encore," pants Umbro. "The first bars of Fire ring out and the hall erupts – singer Tom stands proud in the shirt and a few thousand Frenchmen jammed into the beautiful Paris Olympia, hot and screaming for more, see England Away. The chorus comes around, the masses rise from the floor and in broken English the words ring out across the crowd, 'I'm on Fire … !'"
According to less parti pris reports, and indeed the official video clip of the moment posted on Umbro's own site, the unveiling was greeted with loud boos, which is rather more understandable. Were you to attend a concert by Air at Brixton Academy, only to discover that their finale was to unveil France's new away strip, you might question why they were acting like such plonkers (even Johnny Hallyday couldn't pull that move off).
All of which suggests that the launch of England Away is just another poignantly overblown way of sticking two fingers up at foreign inferiors, only to backfire as Englishmen slink home from abroad accused of overweening pride. We must congratulate Umbro on another wily satire.
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