The world came to know Tom Daley as the kid who could fly. The year was 2008, and a spellbound global public watched as a 14-year-old British high diver—one of the youngest Olympians in the sport—contorted his body through more than 30 feet of air and landed in the pool below with hardly a splash. In these brief interludes between board and water, the veils of reality seemed to disappear; approximately 1.6 seconds of dreamy transcendence where the limits of human physicality fell away. For this period of time, the world was illusory and perfect. But then, Daley sliced through the water. In a moment, the audience was back. What would be the judges’ score? What would the announcers say? Should I really be watching a 17-year-old diving competition instead of securing my health care coverage?
Given the fleeting, perfect nature of that time suspended in the air, it is no wonder that Daley’s forthcoming documentary is indeed titled Tom Daley: 1.6 Seconds. Perhaps diving is the perfect metaphor for the ephemeral state of our youth: gone before it can even be understood. And though Tom Daley is still quite young, he’s in the process of understanding. At 31: he’s retired after a successful career, married with two children and, more often than not, knitting or crocheting in his Los Angeles home. In fact, when I speak to him over Zoom, he is sitting in front of a wall of yarn, of all varying colors and sizes.
“I think looking back on it now it seems more weird,” Daley says with a laugh, reminiscing on the whirlwind that was his teenage years. For Daley, the absurdity wasn’t just the constant training but also the newfound, global exposure. It was the joy of competing at the highest level and of coming to understand himself amidst all of that public attention. “Knowing I was gay growing up, or at least queer in that way, I was always a little bit like, ‘Oh gosh, how am I going to hide the biggest part of myself when all of this attention is happening?’ I always felt this pressure to overachieve, to hide or make up for things that were wrong with me.”
Both in spite and because of his context, Daley would continue to excel within his sport in unprecedented ways. Still just a teen, he went on to place in a variety of events while competing against the best that diving had to offer. And in a historic victory, he became world champion at 15. With his first Olympic medal arriving at the 2012 London Olympics—where he was amongst the most known athletes in not just Great Britain, but in the world—Daley’s decision to come out publicly meant becoming as accomplished and famous an outwardly queer athlete as the UK had ever seen. “My team at the time wasn’t exactly happy about me coming out at all. But then I got to a point where I was like, ‘I don’t ever want to seem ashamed of who I am,’” Daley says. “I didn’t want to be seen as going down [and doing] something like a magazine exclusive, which was kind of what was the norm in 2013. I just didn’t want to make it a big deal.”
Daley came out on his own terms, largely because he knew the act would garner unwanted attention. And while he cites the reception as far more positive than he anticipated, most notable about Daley’s decision in trying to understand the man as he sits here today may well have been his choice to forgo the traditional tabloid route and speak on his own terms. “That’s exactly why I came out on YouTube, and continue to share on YouTube,” Daley explains. “It was my way of being able to share exactly what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it, without any follow-up questions and no one twisting my words. I think there’s something quite powerful in the social media generation, being able to have complete autonomy over what is put out there about you.”
Those early videos were in the days before multi-million dollar fortunes were built on the backs of streaming and content creation—when using a platform like YouTube felt inherently at odds with being a celebrity. It is clear now that Daley’s early adoption of the platform says a lot about what makes the star athlete truly unique: Daley possesses not only a certain foresight about where the culture is headed, but also a commitment to living an authentic life, and doing so on his own terms, in his own voice.
While Daley was creating for himself, he was, of course, cognizant of the old athlete’s mantra: father time remains undefeated. It rang as true for Daley as it does for all athletes. The question was never whether an early retirement was on the horizon, but just how quickly it would arrive. For Daley, that time came this past August, just a few months removed from his 30th birthday.
“It is odd. It is very odd,” Daley says of having to hang up the jammers for good. “There are a number of reasons why I still feel extremely lucky and grateful. This sport has been amazing to me. It has given me so many learning opportunities. But I am also in a position where I can fall out of my diving career into something else, and I have other opportunities.”
Daley’s opportunities looked different than other athletes on the cusp of retirement: where others transitioned from competing to coaching or sports media as they molded their next chapter, the singular authenticity which gained him so many fans as an athlete led Daley down his own path. And I come to find out that the rows of fabric that have sat behind Daley during our talk aren’t just tools of a leisurely pastime, but products of his own making—and new career arc.
Yes, the Olympic great has found his latest love in the world of stitch markers and yarn needles. Made With Love, Daley’s first significant venture with diving in the rearview, is already a full-fledged clothing enterprise, with 1.4 million Instagram followers for the knitting account alone. Sold in craft chains like Michaels and JOANN Fabrics, the brand offers not only materials, but pre-made knitwear and shorts, hoodies, pants, and more designed by Daley and available for purchase. “I got my yarn, a couple of needles, watched a few YouTube videos, and then before I knew it, and with a little bit of patience, I was completely obsessed. And I’ve been completely obsessed ever since,” he says.
Clearly some qualities of the consumptive perfectionism that led to elite athletic performance have transferred quite nicely to this newest endeavor. But as Daley discusses the individual accomplishments he has already made in this new space, he is sure to mention in greater measure the community around him. In this case it is the knitting and crocheting spaces whom he credits with welcoming him into their world with wide-armed enthusiasm. His ingratiation into their universe has even afforded him the chance to host The Game of Wool, a Great British Bake Off style knitting reality competition that is set to premiere this year.
Daley’s is a community of care that initially developed during his time as a diver: it was there when his star first skyrocketed, when he came out publicly, and even during his father’s untimely passing in 2011 before Daley had even turned 18. And it is a support that appears well within his mind when Daley discusses his soon-to-be-released, career-spanning documentary. For all those moments of child-like ecstasy born of his diving prowess, Daley’s is also a journey that cannot be discussed without the adversity that surrounded it.
And the documentary covers the lot. For those fans who have followed and supported Daley since he burst onto the scene, it is not only a chance to relive those personal and professional highs and lows that made up a legendary career, but to experience footage that wasn’t known to exist, even to the man himself. “I remember my mom saying, ‘oh they’re coming down to take some of the [home] videos.’ And I just assumed that I had seen all of those,” Daley says about the origins of his latest project. “So I was like, ‘oh cool, great.’ Because it was always my dad filming bits, and I always remembered when he had his camera out at the diving competitions and stuff. But the young [footage] completely took me off guard, because I had no idea that all of that even existed.”
Many in Daley’s position would be understandably hesitant about sharing such personal footage from their childhood with the world. And while the notion of allowing the private to remain as such did cross his mind, the decision to move forward with Tom Daley: 1.6 Seconds feels very appropriate for a project that Daley considers something of a post-retirement retrospective.
For Daley, narrating and rewatching his career in this way isn’t simply a piece of 21st century content to be released and forgotten to time. At least competitively, Daley’s first love has come to a gentle, magnificent conclusion. As exciting as the new life may be, there is something to be said about sharing with those closest to you the childhood dream-turned reality as it fades into the rearview. “If anything, it’s being able to show my kids one day that this is what my diving life and career have been like,” Tom says. “There’s something special about that.”
Photographed by: Mattia Holm
Styled by: Charles Ward at See Management
Written by Jake Carlisi
Grooming: Elsa Canedo at Opus Beauty
using Charlotte Tilbury and Fenty Hair
Cinematographer: Thomas Magnuson
Flaunt Film: Roberto de Jesus
Music: Alain Emile
Production Assistant: Julia King