CASABLANCA Courts NBA and LA Swagger

Patrick Michael Hughes Fashion Editor Men's Fashion Writer

From Boston to New York Milwaukee to Oklahoma City- Denver to Minnesota with a classic 'ally-oop' to Los Angeles, basketball stars are more than just champions on the court—they’ve long been cultural and fashion icons. For over five decades, the media has followed their off-court style with as much intensity as their on-court prowess.

Think back to the days of Knicks' legend Walt "Clyde" Frazier, whose Super Fly echoed urban cultural shifts from the late '60s into the early '70s. Then there’s the slicked-back, power-suited look of Pat Riley coaching the Lakers in the '80s—an image that was reflective of success and a winning record. And who could forget Dennis Rodman, whose boundary-breaking wardrobe in the '90s foreshadowed the gender-fluid fashion revolution?

Fast forward to today, and NBA tunnel swagger has become the modern-day runway, with players’ personal styles ranging from elevated casual—baggy pants, tank tops, and loose-fitting zip-ups—to avant-garde ensembles that push the limits of high fashion. Social media has only amplified this synergy between basketball and fashion, making every arrival at the arena a moment for sartorial expression.

At Paris Fashion Week, CASABLANCA’s Creative Director Charaf Tajer tapped into this rich legacy, blending Los Angeles' iconic sports style with Mexican-American counterculture. Models strutted around Lowrider cars on a vibrant yellow runway, each look brimming with character and purpose. The collection was more than a tribute; it was a statement on the enduring relationship between sports, culture, fashion and a storied American city..

Parallel to sports culture, Tajer Spring 2025 collection for CASABLANCA delved into a kinship with Mexican-American heritage, particularly the Lowrider community in Los Angeles. For Tajer, a Moroccan-French designer with roots in the working-class, the connection was personal, a reflection of his own upbringing. When designers mine cultural narratives, the results can range from compelling to disastrous. In this case, it was a delicate homage.

Historically, it’s worth noting that the baggy aesthetic now ever present in West Coast fashion was first popularized by Mexican-American youth associated with street gangs in Southern California. From the high-waisted zoot suits worn by Pachucos in the '30s and '40s to the buttoned-down shirt, tie, and denim or leather jacket look, Chicano style has long influenced mainstream fashion. And yet, over the years, this cultural symbolism has often been appropriated by high fashion without proper recognition of its roots. From emerging labels to luxury houses, fashion has frequently borrowed from subcultures born out of social oppression. Chicano motifs, in particular, have been commodified on racks and runways, with little acknowledgment of their origins. Tajer’s collection, however, offers a more respectful nod to this community, highlighting the power of representation when done with sensitivity and an understanding of cultural depth.

One of the most striking elements of CASABLANCA's collection was the airbrushed t-shirts, unmistakably drawing from the Lowrider culture of Mexican-American Los Angeles. These weren’t just fashion statements; they referenced a rich history where young Mexican-Americans took castoff cars—the only ones they could afford—and transformed them into rolling works of art. Lowriders, with their candy-colored exteriors and slow cruising style, were bold declarations of cultural pride, reviled by the mainstream and especially by the police. These cars became symbols of defiance, making an often-overlooked minority visible in the most unapologetic way possible.

In a similar vein, CASABLANCA’s collection glittered with denim paired with kaleidoscopic shirting, while jersey-inspired tops and surf gear hinted at a lifestyle of sun-soaked rebellion. Yet much of this iconography—steeped in Mexican-American history and American basketball swagger—was likely lost on the European fashion audience and press. American buyers and media, more attuned to the subtleties of these cultural references, might have appreciated the homage more deeply. It’s easy to see how some fashion outlets, unaware of this backstory, might dismiss it as another Californian fantasy, lumped together with the Grateful Dead and bohemian nostalgia.

Still, despite these potential misinterpretations, CASABLANCA did what it does best: go full throttle toward a bright, bold statement. It was more than just a collection—it was a reclamation of cultural narratives that have long been appropriated but seldom understood. Whether Paris will fully embrace it remains to be seen, but for those in the know, the message was unmistakable: this was fashion with a voice, and it spoke volumes.