What You Need To Know About Gorpcore.

By Karen and Erica

We always learn new things when we speak with a member of the younger generations. Recently, from a member of Gen Z, we learned all about gorpcore.

Remember GORP? When we were younger, we went for long hikes, and occasionally, beguiled by sweet-talking young men, we actually went camping. The best thing about all of that was–we learned about GORP. Making and eating it was the best part about going deep into nature. To remind you, GORP is that delightful trail mix you take with you when hiking and camping so you will stay alive. GORP is designed so you can carry lots of protein and salt and chocolate in a smallish bag. In case you want to make some yourself, where better to learn about GORP than REI, the legendary sports store with the interesting and beautiful headquarters right in the middle of Seattle:

Today, we treat GORP like an acronym, spelling it with capital letters. There are two primary camps: one arguing for “good ol’ raisins and peanuts” and the other “granola, oats, raisins, peanuts.” But a 1913 reference in the Oxford English Dictionary defines the word “gorp” as a verb meaning “to eat greedily,” which sounds pretty appropriate. If gorp begat GORP then, that means “good ol’ raisins and peanuts” is actually a backronym—an invention of well-meaning GORP lovers trying to give meaning to the already existing word.

By the way, this REI article offers several excellent GORP recipes. We always made ours with M&Ms, but we might try some of the other offerings. And we will probably serve our GORP with martinis, while sitting on a sundeck, remarking how glad we are that we are not camping.

But this article is not about GORP. It is about gorpcore. What, you ask, is gorpcore? And why do you need to know about it?

Gorpcore is the name of a fashion trend that employs clothing strategies created for hiking in designing everyday streetwear looks that go everywhere. OK. You get the GORP connection. But why core?  Google AI says:

The “-core” suffix is added to words, often nouns, to denote a specific aesthetic, trend, or subculture, particularly within online and social media contexts. It signifies a particular style or vibe associated with that original word. For example, “cottagecore” represents a romanticized, rural aesthetic, while “normcore” refers to a deliberately bland, everyday style. 

Google AI goes on to say:

The trend lends itself to a number of different occasions, which now include camping and attending fashion week

Gorpcore is more authentic than prior -cores. We had never heard of any of those -cores–except for one–Barbiecore—which did not incline us to find out about any others.

Gorpcore may be the latest in a succession of “cores,” but this aesthetic is genuinely rooted in utilitarianism, unlike some of its predecessors. Prioritizing comfort and functionality, the trend lends itself to a number of different occasions, which now include camping and attending fashion week. And while it may appear to be a brand-new “core,” according to Stitch Fix stylist Gillian McHattie, gorpcore has been around for years.

“The outdoorsy aesthetic originated in the mid-2010s as an evolution to streetwear and the desire for a rugged and nature-inspired look,” she tells InStyle. The difference between gorpcore then and gorpcore now? The power of celebrity influence and social media to bring it to the mainstream.

“Gorpcore-inspired styles are now often incorporated into runway collections and worn by influential celebrities such as Kendall Jenner and Bella Hadid,” McHattie explains. “[And] with ‘gorpcore’ surpassing  1.3 billion views on TikTok, it’s no wonder more people are embracing the trend.”

Now, of course many of us who grew up in the 60s were instinctively hardcore gorpcore. Yes, these kinds of clothes pre-dated the mid-2010s. But we did not, by choosing to wear them, consider that we had created a trend, or a style, let alone a style with a name. Let alone a name with core appended to the end of it. And of course there were no social media influencers to do that for us. No, we just donned our oversized canvas jackets, jeans and Timberlands every day—except when we exchanged the jeans for microscopic jean skirts. Not, by the way, because we thought of ourselves as rugged. More cheap than rugged.

We did think we were cool, dressing like everyone else. So maybe it was a trend.

That was then, of course. We seldom dress quite like that today. So why do we need to know about gorpcore now? Because our younger friends and relatives will be impressed when we casually trot out the word, as if the style is as new as the word. And that’s a good thing. So drag on a shapeless winter jacket, some beat up jeans and a pair of really beat up Blundstones, show up at fashion week, and tell your younger friends you are going gorpcore. By bringing out your clothes from the ‘60s. We promise the Gen Zers will be wowed.

But hurry. Apparently gorpcore is on its way out.

Aren’t you glad we keep you up to date?