The scene in a football stadium isn't just about chants and banners, but also about clearly defined aesthetic codes. In the ultras world, clothing becomes a language, a sign of belonging that instantly communicates "who we are." In the stadium, the group's visibility is everything: this is why traditional ultras style has always favored functional clothing—hoodies to hide the face, sturdy jeans, tracksuits for agile movement, and sturdy shoes—the true cornerstones of this look. It's not just about fashion, but about unofficial uniforms: every detail counts and identifies. The use of specific brands (often European and Italian, from Stone Island to CP Company or Lonsdale) is never casual, but serves to convey a message of identity, strength, and—sometimes—aggression shared within the group. Those unmistakable logos and technical details of the garments have become symbols: stadium clothing thus becomes a declaration of belonging, a tribal glue that unites the most avid fans.
Many argue that ultras culture is the last true contemporary subculture to survive the mainstream era. Like any subculture, it has a strong visual side: "The image of the ultra is also reflected in fashion," observes one expert in the field. The terrace becomes a group catwalk, with almost military codes: dark colors, similar styles, few concessions to individuality when standing together. The ultras aesthetic has its own implicit uniform, based on unity and mutual recognition. Some compare it to a tribe, where even from a distance, members identify themselves "through their way of dressing" as part of a single world and way of thinking. From this perspective, stadium fashion is technical, monochromatic, and "concealed"—black jackets, caps pulled down, balaclavas—while outside the stadium, the ultras themselves often reinterpret that code with a more frivolous touch, occasionally indulging in a trendy color or item without sacrificing their own aesthetic beliefs . After all, for the authentic ultra, it's not just an occasional disguise: it's a lifestyle. As Antonella Mignogna (costume designer for Lettieri's film Ultras ) explains, a true ultra "never stops being one" and sends signals of belonging even in everyday life through their clothing. A Fred Perry polo shirt, a Stone Island jacket with the unmistakable patch on the sleeve, even a certain rare sneaker model – these are all clues that trained eyes instantly recognize, creating complicity between strangers who share the same football and stylistic faith.
This aesthetic code has deep roots but also unexpected ramifications. While in Italy and continental Europe, ultras culture has often proudly displayed the club's colors (just think of the collective scarf-waving and chromatic chants in the stands), a different trend emerged in England in the 1980s: the casual phenomenon. English fans on away matches adopted an elegant and anonymous style to blend in with the crowd, avoiding wearing team colors to avoid being spotted by the police or rivals. Thus was born an alternative wardrobe made up of high-end brands – Fila, Sergio Tacchini, Lacoste, Fred Perry, Burberry – shown off as a status symbol and at the same time as a coded homage to one's favourite team . “Dress well and behave badly” was the ironic motto of the casuals . Over time, that sophisticated and discreet look spread beyond the curves: casualwear became a fashion phenomenon in its own right, adopted by many young people even outside of football. It's emblematic how in the '90s even some American rappers were fascinated by this "European cool" style made of sports jackets, polo shirts and technical clothing , adopting it in their videos and outfits as if it were the uniform of a rival urban gang. The contamination was complete: what had begun as a purely identity-building function had transformed into a global trend. Today we are witnessing a sort of convergence: the latest trends see an ever-closer fusion between ultras style and casual fashion, with a revival of historic curvy brands on the catwalks and in the streets. The new generations are easily mixing an old ultras jacket with contemporary sneakers, or pairing a vintage team sweatshirt with a hip skateboarder cap. What was once a stadium outing is now everywhere around us, a sign that fashion and fandom have become inextricably intertwined.
At the same time, another element of football apparel is enjoying a second life: the football shirt . While for the hardcore ultra, the "uniform" is often a catch (more symbolic than literal), for the common fan, nothing is more symbolic of their team's identity than its official jersey. Wearing those colors means declaring love and belonging: it's your second skin, especially when you travel far from home. Once upon a time, seeing someone wearing your shirt in a foreign city was like meeting a compatriot. Today, however, this symbol has transcended the confines of fandom, becoming a global streetwear item. The " retro shirt mania " – the craze for vintage shirts – is the clearest proof of this: collecting and wearing old uniforms, even from teams you have no direct connection to, has become cool . Perhaps some will remember when star Kim Kardashian was photographed in Los Angeles wearing a historic Roma yellow and red shirt from the 1990s. A striking image that has gone viral online and definitively sealed the entry of football jerseys into the global fashion consciousness. In Italy and abroad, a passion for vintage jerseys is exploding, not only among collectors and nostalgic fans, but also among young people and influencers seeking unique style. Old uniforms, often rare or expensive, hold a special allure: they evoke nostalgia for golden eras of football and legendary players, offering distinctive retro designs and an aura of exclusivity (some extremely rare pieces fetch thousands of euros). Wearing a vintage jersey thus becomes a way to pay homage to football history and the icons of the past, a declaration of authenticity and respect for the roots of one's (or another's) club. It's paradoxical but fascinating: a person can feel part of something even by wearing the colors of a team that isn't their own, because that piece of clothing represents an era, a style, a universal sentiment. Of course, there's also a flipside, highlighted by some purists: the jersey, once an intimate and almost sacred symbol for true fans, has become depersonalized , becoming a fashion item worn even by those completely unaware of its history. In many cases, jerseys and logos designed for true supporters have ended up "raided by casual fans, or worse, by opposing fans." Some people turn up their noses at seeing Milanese kids wearing Boca Juniors or Borussia Dortmund jerseys just for show. Yet it's a sign of the times: the lines between fandom and trendiness are increasingly blurred.
Faced with this scenario, football clubs themselves have begun to turn their attention to the world of urban fashion. In recent years, we've seen some sensational collaborations: Paris Saint-Germain, for example, launched Air Jordan -branded uniforms, merging basketball and football in a marketing and style move that set a precedent. In the wake of that success, in 2019, Juventus surprised everyone by taking to the field with a fourth jersey designed in collaboration with skate brand Palace , a well-known London streetwear label. Seeing Cristiano Ronaldo and his teammates play with what was essentially a hyped collector's item confirmed that the line between sports merchandise and urban fashion is now extremely thin. It's not just the clubs: even the big names in high fashion have drawn inspiration from football. The Versace runways in fall 2018 showcased reworked fan scarves in silk and bright colors, while Dolce & Gabbana, at its Haute Couture show in Naples, had a model wear none other than Diego Armando Maradona's jersey, an absolute Neapolitan icon. The message is clear: there's a powerful cultural allure in the aesthetic of football fandom, something that speaks to profound identities. Donatella Versace herself, in reinterpreting typical elements of a fan's wardrobe, has played on the threads of nostalgia and irony, bringing popular symbols back to life in a luxurious context. Russian designer Gosha Rubchinskiy , for his part, has based entire collections on football elements (from scarves to jerseys in collaboration with Adidas) precisely because he sees in them a sense of local belonging that is more precious today than ever. In a globalized world where many are "afraid of losing their identity," , a team's jersey becomes the banner of a microcosm, of " small prides and tribal identities " to be defended . It is the flag of David against Goliath: wearing it means telling the world where you come from, what you believe in, who you love.
Ultimately, the connection between fandom, identity, and fashion is more alive than ever, rich in nuances and fascinating contradictions. In the stands of today's stadiums, the young boy in the newly released fluorescent third jersey (perhaps bought more for fashion than faith) coexists with the veteran fan in the tattered sweatshirt of his ultras group, adorned with patches and mementos of distant away games. Some show off the latest limited-edition streetwear cap, while others proudly wear the scarf given to them by their grandfather, the one with the old-fashioned club colors. Everyone, in their own way, tries to say through their clothing: "This is me. This is my people." Football fashion is a game of mirrors between the individual and the collective : the choice of a garment can reflect a fan's unique personality, their tastes, and their personal history, but at the same time, it connects them to a larger community, a tribe they care about. From the stands to the streets, from high fashion to streetwear, what we wear speaks volumes about us and our passions. And football, the passion of passions, offers a vast aesthetic repertoire for self-expression. Jerseys, scarves, jackets, and sneakers aren't just objects: they're emblems of belonging. They tell of nights at the stadium and afternoons in the city, of epic victories and bitter Sundays, of teen idols and family ties. In an increasingly homogenized world, still seeing certain jerseys and certain looks on people reminds us that collective identity can also be expressed through a color, a logo, a style. And that, in football as in life, embracing a passion means bringing it to life—and relive—every day on your own skin.