Seeing someone wearing their university merchandise (‘uni merch’) out in the wild can signal a range of connotations – be it prestige, pride, or egotism – and elicit a range of emotional responses – be it judgment, respect, or even unexpected camaraderie. Though it may not seem to carry much meaning, university merchandise and the culture it fosters can reveal much about the collective student identity. As a tangible representation of one’s university, wearing a hoodie or jacket with the university emblem is an intentional presentation of identity and belonging. By design, merch symbolises and celebrates one’s strong affiliation with their university, society, or sports team. In reality, of course, most people wear merch with no intended message to portray, simply chucking on the convenient uniform, or caving and conforming to the crowd fashion. To what extent, though, has university merch become fashion? Are there ulterior motives to showcasing uni merch to the world?
University merch as a ‘fashion statement’ is often associated with American college culture. The 2010s saw a resurgence of collegiate merch in popular fashion, fuelled by cultural nostalgia for 90s looks with its focus on youth culture. This drove consumerist trends of wearing uni merch casually and fashionably, with many visual inspirations available in film and TV. Though this has died down, there is still an aesthetic appeal to wearing uni merch, whether you associate with the branding or not. This suggests that uni merch in the popular sphere functions less as an indicator of institutional affiliation and more as a stylistic signifier of youth, fashion, and aspirational identity.
On the other hand, wearing your own uni merch on and off campus can carry other connotations. There is an idea that showcasing your university through clothing is an active presentation of status and reputation that can even be used for networking, connecting with alumni, or building one’s outward prestigious academic profile. For some, it represents an embrace of tradition and university spirit, a souvenir of studying abroad, or an expression of academic ambition or achievement. Evidently, the cultural meaning seems to vary from person to person.
When I spoke to students at the University of Edinburgh, however, the general consensus saw uni merch in a more negative light. Despite some contextual exceptions, particularly the use of practical sports attire, wearing university merch was deemed pretentious, posey and kitschy – a visual ‘look at me.’ Particularly with prestigious universities, flaunting your education in certain situations can come across as boastful and elitist.
Sports attire, however, was generally credited with more value and purpose than generic university name-dropping. Wearing the team uniform as a visible marker of belonging can build connection and camaraderie, along with healthy rivalry with other societies. By fabricating the feeling of community, uni merch can help students feel part of something greater.
On the other hand, there is an argument, particularly tied to its inflated costs, that even sports attire cultivates an elitist and exclusive culture at university. Some students I spoke to vocalised a feeling of pressure to purchase the branded items that everyone has, where some items are extortionately priced. This accentuates the divisions between students of different financial backgrounds, already prominent in university sport cultures given inevitable costs for memberships, travel, equipment, and training. I can appreciate that there are practical difficulties for student-led societies in lowering merchandise prices. Regardless of this, merchandise can still reinforce class divisions, especially given Edinburgh’s ranging demographic, where about 40 per cent of incoming students are from private schools.
I spoke to the ski society’s incoming Vice President responsible for merchandise design, who emphasised the club’s commitment to improving inclusivity and priority of reducing prices. The EUSSC in particular carries a reputation of being a more exclusive club, given the unavoidable costs of skiing which attract a more privileged demographic. However, hearing from various committed members, as well as my own personal experience of the society, this stereotype is less universally applicable, as costs are subsidised where possible to make the sport more affordable. Perhaps buying the Snowsports merch, especially ski trip merch, is the distinguishing indicator of class and wealth. Alternatively, when speaking to committee members of small sport societies, like Rounders, purchasing team merch is merely perceived, and even praised, as getting involved in the team spirit.
All in all, it seems the meaning of university merchandise is heavily context dependent. People’s reactions to it reveal as much about the observer as the wearer, with interpretations shaped by personal attitudes towards identity, participation, and self-expression.
Image by Cordelia Murray-Brown for The Student.