The Paris-based soccer team that goes by the name Melting Passes is made up of young guys whose lives outside the field are the opposite of enviable. They are foreign minors arriving from West African countries who have lost or left behind family members and usually have no security or support system in France. But when they showed up to one of their usual matches two weeks ago, they projected the look of world-class players. Thanks to a series of serendipitous interactions that essentially confirm the six-degrees-of-separation theory, the Melting Passes team has been outfitted with uniforms designed by Virgil Abloh that boast the imprimatur of both his brand, Off-White, as well as Nike.
The team was formed last year by legal interns Maud Angliviel and Pierre Rosin, who met as students at an organization that oversaw immigration administration for isolated adolescents. From their work, they discovered more and more guys wanting yet unable to join official soccer teams since they lacked proper residency status. In creating an alternative association, they were able to receive licenses for a current roster of 30 players divided into two teams, with 30 others able to participate in training games—all overseen by volunteer coaches. Through a well-connected actor friend (Angliviel declined to reveal his name), Angliviel had the opportunity to visit Anna Wintour at the Vogue Palais Bourbon offices during Men’s Fashion Week earlier this year. Go figure, Wintour happened to have a meeting scheduled with Abloh afterward.
As much as Wintour had the wherewithal to make the impromptu introduction, she wouldn��t have known that Abloh spent much of his childhood playing soccer—and that his parents came to Chicago from Ghana, a home country shared by some Melting Passes players.
Abloh, let’s not forget, first made his mark with a statement numbered jersey under the Pyrex banner; as a design exercise, this was basically second nature. He pointed out, too, how the meeting took place precisely at the moment that President Donald Trump had enacted his first immigration ban, which underscored how easily people can be alienated instead of embraced. “It was like a godsend project because it synergized on, like, six things in one conversation,” he recalled. “To me, something like this is not about Off-White or what some future idea of a uniform is; it’s not like I’m trying to change the genre of soccer jerseys.” Rather, he likened it to an architectural consideration. “It’s about fulfilling a need. And what I was doing was dialing into questions like, ‘Hey, if I were a kid who felt like I didn’t belong, what would I want on my jersey?’ ”
Hence a crest featuring a dove holding an olive branch, among such Off-White identifiers as the team name as initials within quotation marks. “I wanted to overload [the shirts] with graphics to establish their new identity as a team,” he explained.
“I think his idea from the beginning was to give them outfits to feel empowered,” said Angliviel. “Everything went really fast; it was so great to see his motivation.” Wanting to involve the players in the design process, Abloh encouraged them to choose the colors, which ended up being blue and pinkish orange. That he is currently partnering with Nike eliminated the major hurdle of sourcing a supplier. But then to boost the tees beyond basic white, he had each one spray-painted by hand at his factory in Italy. “This was something made from the resources you have; it’s like a designer approach to a ready-made object,” he said. The notion that the jerseys represent the collective while being unique resonates most of all, Abloh believes. “Each is a little different to celebrate differences—because the idea of a uniform is almost too uniform in this case.”
The result, insists Angliviel, was leaps and bounds from the previous team clothing (Melting Passes operates on private donations). “We were getting ready to take the bar exam at the time so it was not exactly what we wanted. Now they look like a real team.” Upon receiving what Abloh calls their “starter kit,” the players’ reactions were just shy of awestruck. “They didn’t know exactly what to do with it because it was a bit too beautiful. Then they started taking selfies and Snapchats,” mused the cofounder.
But apparently, the high point came once the photography for this article began. “I think it made them feel acknowledged and recognized because in their daily life, they are still so under-recognized,” she explained. The fact that they tied against ES Vitry that day was inconsequential. “They told me that they like being able to impress the other teams—that they now feel they look like real players.” And that alone suggests a victory.