Kicking It

In their respective campaigns for the 2024 general elections, both main candidates for the position of the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom - Rishi Sunak and Keir Starmer - made public appearances in Adidas training shoes. The former in Samba’s, the latter in Gazelle’s. Apart from that, Starmer was seen wearing t-shirts by the Italian brand Stone Island. To an uninformed observer, these are just some boring ordinary clothes, but for an initiate, these are immediately recognizable signs (that’s Peircean semiotics for ya, beatch).

The Independent; November 2022; Budapest, Hungary

Through these specific fashion choices, both of the main prime minister candidates have been winking towards a particular social strata – straight, working- to middle-class men in their 40s-60s. Many people from this demographic are football fans, some - perhaps - with nostalgia towards the subcultures of their youth.

Men that grew up in 1970s-90s Britain are still passionate about the music, films, sports, and even clothes they wore in their adolescent years. Those with interest in football were involved in various football-adjacent subcultures: casuals, ultras, hooligans, etc.

 80's CC Nostalgia

The first - the casuals - were the least socially problematic of the fan groups, as they were the least violent and intimidating ones. While ultras were all about creating as much noise and visual pollution as possible, and hooligans - about invoking physical violence; casuals were about showing up to the stadium in expensive clothes and supporting their club together with people who share their interests. Politicians (such as Starmer and Sunak) want the relatability and social capital that being a football fan brings, yet have to distance themselves from noise and violence - thus, casuals are their subculture of choice.

However, casual fashion was not monolith for three decades; it evolved significantly, with different brands being prevalent among fans in different periods. The 1970s were characterized by the popularity of Lacoste, Diadora, Fred Perry, Fila, and Lyle & Scott, with Adidas Samba and Stan Smith models being the predominant footwear. In the 1980s - Stone Island, Ellesse, and CP Company rose to prominence, together with Adidas’ Gazelle and Forest Hills trainers. Later decades brought Weekend Offender and Napapijri.

All these brands are recognizable symbols, intimate signs for a specific social strata, as they were a quintessential part of the various British football fan movements (casuals, ultras, hooligans). Both Starmer and Sunak have been wearing these clothes in their campaign photos, thus winking at this specific demographic.

PA/Stefan Rousseau; July 2022; Berlin, Germany

Keir Starmer was seen wearing Stone Island t-shirts, as well as Adidas Gazelle shoes. He grew up in the 1980s, the peak of casual subculture’s popularity. Moreover, he is an Arsenal fan, which means that he is closely familiar with the connotations that wearing these clothes implies.

Rishi Sunak has worn Adidas Samba trainers for an interview in April 2024. He grew up in the 1990s, the period when the British government was taking measures to combat violence at football games, so fan subcultures were not as widespread as before. However, given that Sunak himself is a football fan, he is familiar with the casuals’ regalia.

@rishisunakmp; April 2024; London, the UK

Given Starmer and Sunak’s upbringing and interest in football, them wearing casuals’ brands might be sincere fashion choices, but doing it in the context of a political campaign means that it is - at least in part - performative. Perhaps, being a football fan is perceived by politicians as an essential quality of a working-class person, practically a virtue. Thus, to seem relatable to their voter, they have to show their allegiance to the sport and its surrounding culture.

Reuters/Damir Sagolj; July 2018; Moscow, Russia

There is a difference between politicians being present at a national team game with its scarf or a jersey, and them using elements of football fan fashion to appeal to their supporters and constituents. The former is merely representing the nation at a sports event; the latter - appropriating elements of other people’s culture, exploiting ideas of a discourse that belongs to someone else for your own benefit.

There are more brazen examples of such usurpation of football fashion by politicians of other countries. Ex-president of Brazil, Jair Bolsonaro, used the iconic yellow shirt of the Brazilian national team as his party symbol. Initially, in 2014, the yellow shirt was a symbol of protests against Brazilian government corruption. Later in 2015, it was used at demonstrations against president Dilma Rousseff. But in 2018, Jair Bolsonaro’s supporters appropriated it as their own symbol. In his 2022 presidential campaign, yellow was the main color. Bolsonaro supporters wore national team jerseys to his political rallies.

Getty Images; March 2019; Washington, DC, the USA

Similarly, Hungarian prime minister Viktor Orban has worn a football scarf that featured a map of ‘Greater Hungary’ to a game between Hungary and Greece in fall of 2022. The map on the scarf showed parts of Austria, Croatia, Romania, Serbia, Slovakia, and Ukraine as Hungarian territory. Such a scarf might be possible to see on an ultra in the stands, but it being worn by a political leader is a clear signal to football fans, a demand for their support.

Using sports to get public approval is an old reliable move for politicians; it can be seen everywhere in the world. This is especially applicable to football: it is frequently used to improve public perception of various countries, parties, and officeholders. It is interesting to observe how this sportswashing mechanism exploits football fan fashion, as it has very specific and not-so-apparent visual tokens that are not accessible to everyone in society, only to the select few.