From Onyx to Bratz
Why Some Gymshark Collections Become Uniforms and Others Become Content
This isn't really an article about Gymshark.
It's an article about what happens when an entire category becomes successful enough to start looking the same.
Over the last decade, athleisure has evolved from functional gym wear into everyday uniform. Activewear is no longer something people change into for an hour before changing out again. It has become fashion, lifestyle and identity rolled into one. Yet that popularity has created a new challenge. Scroll through social media today and it's increasingly difficult to tell where one activewear brand ends and another begins. The same silhouettes, the same neutral palettes, the same influencer marketing and the same promises of confidence and self-improvement dominate the category.
That raises a bigger question than whether a collection sells well.
What makes a fitness brand timeless?
Gymshark provides a fascinating lens through which to explore that question because it has experienced both sides of the equation. It has created products that have become genuine fixtures of gym culture, while also producing launches that generated huge attention without creating the same lasting loyalty.
The best example is Onyx.
On paper, there is nothing particularly revolutionary about it. There are no celebrity partnerships, nostalgia-driven collaborations or elaborate campaign concepts. Yet Onyx has become something many brands desperately want but rarely achieve: a uniform.
People don't buy it because it's new. They buy it because it works. It has become dependable, familiar and trusted. In many gyms, particularly among male lifters, it remains as visible today as it was years ago.
That observation becomes more interesting when compared to the women's category.
Over the last 12 months, I've noticed a shift on the gym floor. While Gymshark remains highly visible among male gym-goers, women's loyalty appears increasingly fragmented. Across different ages and training styles, I've personally seen more women gravitating towards brands such as AYBL, DFYNE and similar challengers.
The key point is not that these brands are necessarily better. It's that they are increasingly similar.
The fabrics are similar. The fits are similar. The styling is similar. When consumers perceive multiple brands as offering essentially the same product, loyalty becomes fragile. The decision shifts from "I'm a Gymshark customer" to "Which version of this look do I prefer today?"
That is a dangerous place for any premium brand to be.
The Gymshark x Bratz collaboration offers an interesting example of this challenge.
Before launch, excitement was enormous. Bratz carries strong emotional equity, representing confidence, individuality and a distinct cultural aesthetic. Yet after launch, one of the most-liked criticisms described the collection as "Gymshark collabing with Gymshark", arguing that the partnership failed to fully embrace what made Bratz unique in the first place.
That response wasn't really about product quality.
It was about identity.
Consumers felt they were being sold a collaboration without seeing a meaningful transformation. The collection created conversation, but conversation and loyalty are not the same thing.
Meanwhile, an entirely different trend is reshaping the market. The rise of activewear "dupe culture" means consumers are increasingly comfortable buying alternatives that offer a similar look and feel for significantly less money. Entire communities now exist to help shoppers find cheaper versions of premium products.
That presents a fundamental challenge for brands like Gymshark.
If aesthetics alone are driving purchase decisions, somebody will always be able to offer a similar product at a lower price.
This is where the conversation becomes bigger than Gymshark.
Every athleisure brand now sits between two competing forces. Fashion rewards novelty and constant reinvention. Fitness rewards consistency and trust. Social media pushes brands towards the former, while long-term loyalty is built through the latter.
The temptation is to chase trends.
The opportunity is to build things that outlast them.
For Gymshark, that means remembering what made the brand successful in the first place. It wasn't built on fashion. It was built on fitness. More specifically, it was built on self-improvement, progress, discipline and community. The clothing became a symbol of those values rather than the values themselves.
The strongest example of this remains the Whitney Simmons collections. Their longevity isn't simply down to design. Consumers understand who Whitney is, what she represents and why the products exist. The collection feels connected to a genuine community rather than a seasonal marketing exercise.
That distinction matters because philosophies are considerably harder to copy than products. Fabrics can be replicated, silhouettes can be replicated, and colour palettes can be replicated, often within months of a successful launch. Purpose, however, is far more difficult to imitate. The brands that endure are rarely those with the most innovative product features alone, but those with a clear point of view and a set of values that customers genuinely connect with. In that sense, the opposite of timeless isn't old-fashioned, it's disposable. Products can be replaced, trends can be replicated, but a brand built around a meaningful identity has a far greater chance of remaining relevant long after the latest collection has disappeared.
Timeless fitness brands understand that while trends change, the reasons people train rarely do. People train to become stronger, healthier, more confident and more capable. The brands that endure build themselves around those motivations rather than the latest aesthetic trend.
Ultimately, the biggest threat to Gymshark's women's category isn't Lululemon.
It's the growing number of brands offering near-identical products, aesthetics and influencer marketing at lower prices.
Perhaps the clearest sign of how dramatically the market has changed is the rise of dupe culture. Not long ago, being compared to a cheaper alternative would have been seen as a threat to a brand's reputation. Today, entire communities are dedicated to finding products that look, feel and perform like premium activewear for a fraction of the price, and consumers openly share recommendations rather than hiding them. The implication is significant. When shoppers are willing to swap between brands based largely on aesthetics, fabric feel or price, the product itself becomes increasingly commoditised. A flattering legging, a seamless set or a sculpting fit are no longer unique selling points, they're expected. In many ways, dupe culture has exposed an uncomfortable truth for the entire athleisure industry: if the primary reason someone buys a product is how it looks, someone else can usually recreate most of that value more cheaply. The brands that survive this shift won't be the ones with the most trend-led collections. They'll be the ones that offer something harder to imitate, a sense of identity, community and purpose that exists beyond the garment itself.
The answer isn't more launches, it's more conviction. Because the real lesson from Onyx isn't about black T-shirts or minimalist design. It's about creating something so trusted and familiar that consumers stop looking for alternatives.
In a market overflowing with cheaper lookalikes, the brands that win won't be the ones that launch the most collections.
They'll be the ones that create the few collections nobody wants to replace. So bring back the graphic tees, the pump pants and the genuinely unique items that I never see anyone else wearing. The pieces people ask you about when you’re working out – those are the pieces brands should be focusing on...