When the merch escapes
On Tinder dates, factory fuckups, fluffy socks and making branded things people actually want.

A few years ago, I went on a Tinder date that involved a hike. He was wearing socks that said “I’d hike that.”
The date didn’t lead anywhere particularly useful, but the socks did. At some point later, while thinking about merch for Upscale, my brain turned “I’d hike that” into “I’d prompt that.” So we made socks.


This is probably the most accurate representation of my merch design process.
Still not putting Tinder under Tools on my CV.
There’s a lot of Pinterest browsing, looking at what other companies are doing, listening to ideas from the team, noticing random things in the world and thinking we could do something with that. Then eventually all of those ideas meet a budget (sadly) and reality gets involved.
The one thing I’ve become pretty opinionated about is that merch shouldn’t start with “where do we put the logo?” It should start with “would anyone actually want this?”
There’s already enough branded stuff in the world that nobody asked for. If we’re going to make more of it, I at least want to make something people would choose to wear, use, or steal from a family member. A company logo on a T-shirt is so 2015.
Would anyone actually want this?
That’s probably the question behind most of the merch I make. Sometimes the reason to want something is the copy. I’d prompt that. Send nodes. My muse is a model. They’re all stupid enough to make me laugh, which is usually a promising start.


Sometimes it’s a detail, like putting a neon arrow on the collar of a jacket instead of covering the whole thing in branding. And sometimes it’s simply that the thing itself is nice. The hoodie should be soft and actually comfortable. The jacket should be something I’d wear even if I hadn’t been at the event. The socks should be thick and fluffy. The hat should fit well.

This sounds obvious, but there is an impressive amount of merch in the world that seems to have skipped the part where somebody asks whether the object itself is any good.
We’ve made hoodies, hats, jackets, socks, linen shirts, totes, pouches, hand sanitizer and tumblers for Upscale. I’ve also worked on Magnific employee welcome packs and promotional merch. Some things were hits. Some were… tumblers.





One of my favorites is the PROMPTS hoodie we made for Upscale. Getting those giant letters to sit properly across the back and sleeves took quite a few samples, but eventually we got it right.
The factory then messed up part of the final production, but luckily only I know what’s wrong. We still keep spotting them out in the wild, so I’m calling it a win.

Spotted in the wild
Luckily, when something works, people let us know. People ask where we get things made, which I take as a huge compliment and then absolutely refuse to tell them. I’ve heard about family members fighting over an Upscale jacket, people ask if there are pieces left after the event, and every now and then someone sends me a photo because they’ve spotted Upscale merch somewhere in the wild.






There’s something particularly satisfying about merch escaping the context it was made for. A conference jacket stops being conference merch if someone genuinely wants to wear it on a random Tuesday. A hat doesn’t need anyone to know what Magnific is if the person wearing it just thinks My muse is a model is funny.
That, to me, is when it worked. Not when we successfully put the brand on an object, but when somebody wants the object.
Give them another reason
I still don’t have a formula for good merch. Most ideas start in fairly unglamorous places: Pinterest, something another company made, someone on the team saying “what if…”, a piece of clothing I like, or apparently a Tinder date.
Then there’s the budget, the samples, the materials, the vendor, the production timeline and a long list of opportunities for the real object to become slightly different from the one in your head.


But the thing I keep coming back to is pretty simple: give people another reason to want it.
Make it funny. Make it weird. Put the artwork somewhere unexpected. Make the jacket genuinely nice. Make the socks ridiculously fluffy. Make something they would choose even if you weren’t handing it to them at a conference.
And when someone asks where you got it made, take the compliment.