Three cases, three lessons
Recently there have been three clear cases in which, through three different mechanisms, merch achieved the same result: the physical object becoming a vehicle for tribal identity. Let us examine them one at a time.Marty Supreme / A24
Merch as a cultural artefact that precedes the product and amplifies anticipation for it. No element of the jacket appears in the film. It was designed solely for the press tour, inspired by the character’s retro sporting aesthetic. A24 understood that in an ecosystem where attention is fragmented, a desirable object generates more conversation than any trailer. Merch became the driver of distribution.
Trader Joe’s tote bag
The opposite case, and the more revealing one. No deliberate strategy. The canvas bag bearing the Californian supermarket’s logo, which costs less than 3 dollars in the United States, sells on eBay for 40-60 euros in countries where Trader Joe’s does not exist. The signal it sends is “I know what Trader Joe’s is, I’ve been there, I’m part of that culture”. The brand’s identity was strong enough to turn a shopping bag into an object of desire without anyone having planned it.
Starbucks Bearista
The most deliberate version. Limited-edition mugs and items featuring the Bearista character generate queues in Asian markets, with people crossing national borders to buy regional versions not available elsewhere. Starbucks uses geographical scarcity as an engagement lever: the object becomes proof of belonging to a global community of collectors.
What this tells brands that do not yet have a merch culture
Merch works as a loyalty tool only when there is something to affiliate with. A brand cannot create a merch culture simply by deciding to launch a collection. It can do so only if it has already built an identity strong enough to make people feel that wearing or carrying that object says something true about them. The Trader Joe’s bag works because Trader Joe’s is a cultural identity, not just a supermarket. The Marty Supreme jacket works because Chalamet and A24 hold genuine cultural credibility. A sweatshirt bearing the logo of a brand nobody cares about gets the same reaction as any other corporate giveaway: it ends up in a drawer. The question every brand should ask itself is not “should we do merch?” but: “do people identify with us strongly enough to want to carry our name in public as a signal about themselves?” If the answer is no, then the problem lies not in the merch but in the identity. Merch is the most honest test there is of the depth of a brand identity. Brands that fail to build a culture around their objects are therefore receiving precise feedback on how far people genuinely feel part of what they stand for.Domande frequenti
Can any brand build a merch culture, or is it a privilege of brands that already have a strong community?
A strong community is the condition, not the starting point. Many brands that now have solid merch cultures built them over time through consistency of identity, not through launch campaigns. Supreme began as a skate shop frequented by two hundred people. Merch culture became the mechanism through which that community signalled its belonging. The question is not how large the community is today: it is how deep the sense of identification is among those who belong to it.
Is artificial scarcity always the right lever for merch, or does it risk looking manipulative?
Scarcity works when the product justifies it: a limited edition tied to a specific moment, a collaboration with an artist, a product with a story to tell. It becomes manipulative when it is the only reason anyone would want to buy the object. The test is simple: if the brand removed the scarcity, would the product still be desired? The Marty Supreme jacket would be desired even with unlimited availability, because the cultural affiliation it represents is real. A limited-edition corporate gadget remains a gadget.
How can you tell whether merchandising genuinely strengthens the brand or is just a gadget?
The most useful test is to observe what remains once the promotional function is removed. If the object is desirable because it expresses codes, symbols and meanings the audience already associates with the brand, then it is extending the identity. If it works only because it carries a logo, it is unlikely to build belonging. This is why merch should be assessed like any other brand extension. In Bliss’s Brand Strategy and Brand Governance work, the question comes before the object: which elements of the identity are strong enough to live outside traditional communications too? When the answer is clear, merchandising can become a genuine cultural asset. When it is not, it risks remaining mere promotional material.