While critiquing the way the United States chooses to represent itself to the world is an activity deserving of its own Olympic category, other countries deserve the spotlight too. Russia chose Bosco Sport to design its outfits, and the firm created cobalt blue (for men) and bright red (for women) suits that serve a dual significance. The first is to evoke the Khrushchev-era, a period marked by a thaw in cold-war relations—an ironic parallel considering that Russia used the beginning of the Olympics as a diversion to invade neighboring Georgia. The second is the intent to recall the myth of the Russian Fire Bird, a beautiful, elusive creature that brings much danger to its pursuers. That's an appropriate message to transmit as the post-Soviet Russian state makes its boldest effort yet to restore part of its former empire.

On a purely aesthetic level, the ceremony provided plenty of ammunition for fashion critics who deplore the relentless trend toward casual wear that has upended notions of formality around the world. One of the most egregious examples of this ultra-relaxed take on team outfits came courtesy of Canada, with tracksuits stitched from a garish red fabric paired with messenger bags, white shorts and caps worn askew—the overall effect being more "aspiring rap star" than "champion athlete." Interestingly, the Canadian uniforms were also some of the most high-tech and culturally inclusive, incorporating eco-friendly, performance fabric that repels sun, wicks perspiration and resists odor; and emblazoned with both Canadian and Chinese symbols. Whatever one thinks about their visual appeal, it can be argued that they are firmly "of the moment," reflecting the contemporary landscape in all its innovative, casual, global glamour. The Canadian public, however, had little affection for them. One puzzled local TV newscast couldn't decide whether they more resembled a "Halloween costume" or " '70s leisure suit."

The most fashion-conscious statement, predictably, came from the French contingent, which sported chic pale grey jackets with hats and berets. The female athletes wore wide red obi-like belts over their jackets, echoing both Asian culture and one of the strongest trends in high fashion. Unlike some other countries, the "meaning" of their elegant uniforms was strictly surface-related, but even so, they still communicated something essential about the French state of mind: a continuing appreciation and affection for a modern sense of chic, with roots in a traditional, national aesthetic.

Some people scoff at the idea that what people wear means anything, but skeptics should consider, at the very least, just how much revenue these uniforms generate. (The contract was worth around $100 million in Canada's case alone). A lot of time, money and thought went into the decisions each country made, and whether people realize it or not, they highlight what appear to be some important truths. The world's two previous sole superpowers are caught in flux, and both are reaching for visual elements that recall their former status. The public isn't quite ready to abandon nationalism in favor of a more inclusive approach— Canada's laudable attempt at multiculturalism mostly yielded mockery. And most of all, if you're interested in high-design, stick to Paris, the epicenter of sophisticated style—the Olympics is no place to go looking for fashion gold, unless, that is, the French are in the game.

© 2008