It’s something every football-supporting male must confront at some point. Standing there with the replica shirt half-on before the game, you look down at it and wonder, “Do I really want to look like this anymore?” I hit this crisis at 32, while drying my hair before heading to Old Trafford. I realised that the last time I’d worn that shirt I’d also owned some hair gel, half my current salary, and no mortgage application to fill in.
The shirt had shrunk – okay, not exactly, but it fit me less comfortably than it used to, assuming I took several deep breaths while wearing it – and it suddenly seemed more like costume than expression of identity. It’s not like I’m judging anyone who wears a football shirt when they go to matches these days. I’m well into my 30s and I still own a decent amount of football shirts.
We’ve all got t-shirts; my problem was deeper than that. I felt judged by those shirts.
The weird, self-imposed pressure that asks: “What would the other adults think if they saw you wearing another man’s name on your back?” If you’re happy rocking the latest kit when you watch football, more power to you.
But if you’ve felt even a fraction of my internal awkwardness about wearing a replica shirt – that suddenly “Johnny Debt” doesn’t look the same at 40 as it did at 14 – then read on. This is about trying to reach some sort of compromise. You support your team, you fit in with terrace culture, but you do it in a way that doesn’t make your partner/coworkers/kids cringe every time you show up to the match.
Because honestly, I don’t think this is something most countries worry about. Go to Italy and grown men wander around matches in tailored overcoats and scarves. In Germany it doesn’t seem like there’s the same stigma based on age about what fans wear to games.
But in Britain I think something funny happens to most men in their mid-to-late 30s where you suddenly become aware that you’re probably the oldest guy in the pub wearing someone else’s name on your back. It’s our problem. So what are your options when you’ve aged out of wearing full kit but still want to avoid carrying around a program like your dad?
For what it’s worth, here’s my official 30-year-old-and-under guide to watching football without wearing a football shirt. Scarves. It’s the most obvious step away from replica territory and for good reason: football scarfs are cool AF, timeless, useful during about eight months of the football calendar and pack a seriously stylish retro vibe at any age.
I have way too many scarves; some from the club proper going back to the classic bar scarves of the 80s and 90s, others unofficial ones I’ve picked up along the way. Throw on a plain black/navy/grey overcoat over your shirt with a United scarf and you’re officially giving just enough of a shit that no one can question your commitment. My older brother did this exact combo when I was growing up, lots of classic United shirts under a black overcoat with his United scarf.
Club branded jackets can be a decent middle-ground, assuming you avoid the garish choices and go for something a bit smarter. These days most clubs do some sort of outerwear with the team colours referenced without plastering the crest all over it. Wear on its own?
Perhaps not always. But it’s ideal for British spring/autumn fixtures where you need something a bit warmer than a shirt but short of winter coat territory. I have a lightweight bomber style jacket in United away colours (navy with red trim) that works perfectly.
Looks far more “casually interested in football” than “man trying not to look old trying to wear a football shirt.” Step away from the shirts entirely and go for one of the polo-style tops most clubs do now. Small embroidered badge but none of the fake baggy glory of the playing shirts. Ideal for those early-season August/September matches where it’s actually warm enough to wear short sleeves, or teaming under a jumper/jacket with only the collar visible as a subtle identifier.
Jumpers hold special place in footballing folklore. Pre-waybackmachine clips of football fans from the 60s/70s are more likely to feature them than replica shirts (they weren’t really a thing back then anyway). Get yourself a plain crew neck in your home kit colour; super practical, always stylish.
I picked up this cheap plain red lambswool jumper from Hugo Boss (!) just because it was red and team England when I was about 15, but it now gets more wears each season than any of my actual United shirts. Vintage/retro shirts are kind of the middle-ground of shirts. They tend to be slimmer cut, have better design/features and avoid that ‘trying to be a footballer’ look that current shirts impose.
Referencing club history, rather than recreating the latest player’s kit. I scored a bespoke reproduction of United’s 1968 European Cup final shirt a few years back that I’m particularly proud of; much simpler style than most current kits, cotton fabric rather than sweaty polyester, and fits like a dream. Wearing that feels worlds better than throwing on the current kit; subtle differences but it completely alters how a shirt reads on a man over 30.
You Might Also Like
Look towards heritage beyond just home/away colours. As British clubs, we’re lucky in that lots of our clubs have strong regional/cultural identities we can dip into. Manchester’s terrace culture has long-standing links with certain brands/styles of clothing – the Casuals movement may have evolved into something else entirely, but knowing your heritage means you can make smarter, more subtle references to your clubs culture.
Arguments can be made that whole point of football fandom is tribalism, wearing the same colours as your mates, that visible representation of where you stand. And they’d be right. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you wearing the team shirt.
But just because your priorities didn’t evolve as you got older, doesn’t mean yours will/should stay the same. Comfort comes before style every time. Matchdays fucking suck weather-wise.
Cold, probably wet, you’re often walking and/or stood for hours at a time. A decent coat that’ll keep the rain off and your shoulders warm is worth every penny for those regular attendees. If you can find one in a team colour/with subtle logo detail even better, but don’t feel like you need waterproofing to justify buying a coat you’ll wear beyond matchdays.
My 19-year-old self couldn’t have afforded a waterproof jacket. I thank God my 40-year-old self could and did. Boots, always boots.
Water-resistant if possible, but comfortable enough that you won’t hate life by half time. Some layers; sleeveless undershirt/t-shirt, jumper, coat depending on what time of year/kickoff time it is. Just in time for my most recent birthday my parents bought me a climbing/bushcraft-type backpack that I’ve started using at grounds; roomy enough to stash all my layers/jacket when we go, plus holds a litre water bladder in the side pocket to keep me hydrated through the game.
Growing older has also allowed me to develop match superstitions. Not the rabbit’s foot keyring/getting changed for the match in the same seat every game kind, but smaller idiosyncrasies built up over the years. I’ve got “the lucky jumper” that I happened to wear during a run of form, a scarf I took to every cup final from 2009-2016 whether home or away.
My away jacket because we never lost wearing that between 2010-2013. Whatever it means to you; wear that instead of what this season’s playing shirt happens to be. The best way out is sometimes to simply refuse to conform.
Wear your shirts on select occasions rather than defaulting to them. Pick your away games/home cup finals/European nights and allow yourself some latitude there. It feels like for big games everybody suspends the rules – again, I’ve seen grown men I’m sure don’t wear Nike trackies any other time rocking the full superhero persona for their favourite club’s cup final.
Save your protest for shirts that have a significance to you; Panini stickers, old season shirts, classic designs you like from years gone by. I also made the jump to wearing just club colours recently rather than brand-specific shirts. Red jumper/blue jeans if you’re United supporter.
Blue shirt/white trousers if you love Chelsea. Basically neutral clothes that happen to match your teams colours.
Again though, there’s something to be said for just throwing your hands up and wearing what you want.
Football culture always existed outside the mainstream, many of its social conventions. If wearing your local team’s shirt fills that void for you then awesome. Some of the knowledgablelest fans I’ve ever met all wore the latest shirts proudly well into their 60s and didn’t give a shit what I wore.
For me, it just ended up being a uniform I settled into; dark jeans, boots, layers, something red (usually that aforementioned lambswool jumper), scarf to change depending on superstition/luck-of-the-previous-game. It works with my lifestyle; I may be coming directly to games from work or have clients after so I need to blend into everyday life a little, but still works to clearly mark me as a supporter whenever I wear it. There will always be room for the teen wearing full kit; the grown-ass man carefully crafting his look pre-match and the 70-year-olds wearing the same lucky jumper they’ve had since you were born.
We all bleed the same colour when we watch our teams, and care way too much about men chasing a ball around for what ultimately is just a game. So wear what the fuck you like. Comfortable enough to move around in for the 90 minutes (and god knows we all stand WAY too much at matches these days) and that you feel good wearing.
Shirt, coat, lucky sponge, rainbow leg warmers. You do you, boo.
