What’s in a name? The terrific, trashy rise of personalised fashion
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Whether it’s lurid, hip-hop-style tribute tees or monogrammed socks, making a personal mark on the things we wear can be a marvellous model for self-expression. The Guardian’s journalism is independent. We will earn a commission if you buy something through an affiliate link. Learn more.
![[Rhik Samadder]](https://i.guim.co.uk/img/uploads/2017/10/09/Rhik-Samadder,-L.png?width=75&dpr=1&s=none&crop=none)
It was Roger Federer’s white jacket in 2006 for me. Golden initials embroidered on the breast pocket, as he lifted the Wimbledon trophy. The elegant monogram suggested an aristocratic elan that I craved. Was it possible to grab some of his pedigree, without the achievements or money, but with some simple stitching? I wondered if I would feel like a fraud.
![[The writer wearing a cap with his name embroidered in pink. ]](https://i.guim.co.uk/img/media/72cbdd81e1533f5f56412074ffc89fe17b4b2448/2702_0_6189_6190/master/6189.jpg?width=445&dpr=1&s=none&crop=none)
Twenty years later, such personalisation is attainable, and everywhere. Monograms and other distinctive touches, formerly the preserve of the rich, can be anyone’s. Zara, H&M and Uniqlo offer embroidery options in-store. You can buy personalised phone cases, keyrings and socks through Etsy, Glenfiddich whisky bottles labelled with your name, and Converse Chuck Taylors with your face on them. Buying a shoe tree the other day, I was asked if I wanted my initials etched on the heel knob. Oxford Street’s newest pop-up, Hus of Frakta, offers a monogrammed Ikea bag. We personalise football shirts on stag dos and birthdays, and print ironic T-shirts with the faces of loved ones. What’s with all the self-regard – and is identity so easily bought?.
![[Writer Rhik Samadder holds a personalised water bottle. ]](https://i.guim.co.uk/img/media/018d542fb73cd04e59d7e7c3b3077377faea45a9/0_0_6336_9003/master/6336.jpg?width=445&dpr=1&s=none&crop=none)
To finally answer the question I have been wondering since July 2006, I road test a few custom pieces. First up – a baseball cap with my name on it from Etsy for £21.95. I’ve never enjoyed my name. Everyone spells it wrong. It’s like being lumbered with an administrative burden. Anyone foreign will understand the alienation of tourist attraction gift shops that sell name keyrings. There’s no point looking for Rhik, or Tadhg, or Xiu. (It’s like we were never even at Space Mountain.).
