As young people across the country re-embracing the flag through unwanted items in souvenir shops, there may be more to the trend than just mockery.
When you think of Union Jack fashion, you probably have a certain aesthetic that comes to mind: patriotic waistcoats, Kate Spade cushions, or fluffy dresses from Next. Over the last 30 years, we’ve often been told that Union Jack fashion can be “so cool” if done “the right way,” and the best example we can come up with is a 30-year-old photo of a pop star in a minidress. Despite our best efforts as a society, and while some may shake their heads in disagreement, the Union Jack has never been as genuinely cool as people desperately hoped it would be. That’s why young people today are bringing it back.
Across the country, the Union Jack is slowly creeping back into the youth fashion vocabulary, popping up everywhere on shrunken baby t-shirts, worn messenger bags and knitted woollen beanies. It’s nowhere near runway-ready, and whether you’re sitting outside a Yung Lean concert in London, walking the cobbled streets of Paris or strolling through Manchester’s Northern Quarter, your eye is caught by souvenir shop trinkets. Emblazoned with second-hand clothes and Hello Kitty memorabilia, the Union Jack has finally regained its appeal as an ironic patriotic symbol, once again on sale at a heavily discounted price.
“The sweatbands are from a corner store that doubles as a fancy dress store, and the t-shirt is a collaboration with Bratz,” art school graduate Bijou Gregory told me over email, sharing a fitted photo of her Union Jack outfit. Not only were the items that accompanied the outfit patriotic enough, but the description perfectly summed up the latest in this trend: leftovers from a local convenience store and children’s dolls. And for Bijou, the Union Jack outfit is ironic. “As someone born in a female body, I feel like patriotic clothing mocks the negative aspects of masculinity,” she added, highlighting the satirical element of what’s going on.
Fans outside a Yung Lean concert in London. Photo by Luka Wocina.
There seems to be at least some recognition in this revived style that the Union Jack is embarrassing. When you try to repurpose something ironically, it’s bound to be lame. While there are strong examples of anarchist punks remaking the flag in 1970s Britain, it’s hard not to look back at Union Jack fashion in recent decades (see gallery above) and feel a sense of embarrassment. It’s perfect for satire. Ketamine chic advocates have re-embraced the embarrassment markers of the 2010s, and this seems to be an extension of that, but instead Comme des Fuckdown is wrapping up nostalgia for a cultural era that supposedly peaked with the closing ceremony of the London Olympics. Kieran Scott, a 20-year-old art student at Goldsmiths University in London, echoed similar sentiments, saying, “I like the irony of this style. I’m a pretty jokey guy, so I think it’s funny to wear overtly British clothes in London. ” Kieran admits that while he’s not interested in actual patriotism, he would find it pretty funny “if seriously patriotic people thought I was on their side.”
But before this moment, there had been many attempts to exploit the Union Jack’s cultural value in more direct ways. For better or worse, the Union Jack has been in fashion’s consciousness since the 1970s. There were peaks and troughs, like Liam Gallagher and Patsy Kensit wrapped in red, white and blue bedspreads on the cover of Vanity Fair in 1997 (peak) or Taylor Swift wearing a little top hat during the British Invasion segment of the Victoria’s Secret show (trough). The former “coincided with the end of 18 years of Conservative government,” so “Britain’s semiotic symbols, and the Union Jack in particular, were ripe for reclaiming and reinterpreting them in a non-ironic way,” says Andrew Groves, professor of fashion design at the University of Westminster. In that sense, the Cool Britannia movement of the late ’90s (whose linchpin was that Vanity Fair cover) is the ironic inverse of our own time.
“The resurgence of the Union Jack in fashion is due more to cultural reinterpretation than traditional patriotism” – Professor Andrew Groves
Back then, the Union Jack was embraced based on a genuine belief that things could actually get better, but now, despite the Labour government in power, things don’t seem so positive for British youth. A reflection of this is the ironic reinterpretation of the flag. Groves further states that “the Union Jack’s resurgence in fashion is due more to its graphic appeal and cultural reinterpretation than to traditional patriotism.” In other words, its meaning is constantly changing. This allows “new generations to reassert and recontextualize the flag in ways that reflect contemporary British identity,” which is exactly what today’s youth are doing.
But while irony seems like an obvious way for young people to relate to the flag, not everyone is. Connor, a 21-year-old fashion student from Manchester, owns around seven or eight Union Jack clothes, bought from Vinted, Depop and charity shops. “For me personally, it feels a bit nostalgic,” he says. “When I was younger, I had a Union Jack themed bedroom and the obsession grew from there. I’ve always been drawn to Union Jack themed clothes.” What’s interesting is the way Connor incorporates this style into his wardrobe, which reflects a tongue-in-cheek version but is actually the exact opposite. On top of that, after stating the ironic purpose of the fit, Bijoux adds that “their delight in the Britpop aesthetic” also draws them to the style. Even Doja Cat, who cosplayed as Ginger Spice at Wireless Festival this month, seemed to embrace the flag wholeheartedly and without irony. Designer Dilara Findukoglu posted a photo next to her haute couture piece with the caption “proud and grateful to be here,” complete with a Union Jack emoji. Maybe everything isn’t as ironic as it seems – people are tapping into genuine nostalgia that makes Union Jack fashion cool?
Lava la rude! Provided by: Lava la rude
“I’m happy that there’s so much more black people, people of colour and queer people doing it now,” says 25-year-old pop star Rachel Cinoulili. Like other black British artists such as Near Archives, Cinoulili incorporates the symbolism of the Union Jack into her aesthetic, but she says it’s not for irony. “My whole album is based on what it was like growing up black in Britain,” the singer says. “I remember seeing the Britpop aesthetic for the first time as a kid and thinking it was cool, but I never thought I could be a part of it because I never saw people who looked like me embracing it. When I grew up and understood why, I decided to get involved in highlighting the cultural significance that black people have achieved for British pop culture and not allow it to disappear.”
Another black British artist who represents the Union Jack is Lava La Rue. “I noticed the Union Jack resurfacing in the fashion world as a rather shallow pseudo-Britpop, Oasis boast,” La La Rue says in an email conversation. “I almost stopped using the symbol, but for personal reasons I continue to wear it.” La La Rue explains how her repurposing of the symbol, paired with the Jamaican flag for her LAVALAND clothing line, has drawn ire from both the left and the right. According to La La Rue, the left is understandably outraged by the Union Jack’s “dark colonial past” and “morally corrupt government,” while the right hates the idea of queer, gender non-conforming people of color wearing a symbol that they claim is antithetical to those identities. But like Chinolili, La La Rue continues to wear the Union Jack as a sign of resilience. “Why attribute the British flag to the worst of the worst,” they say. “There are so many unmistakably British things that the British flag could represent – grime, the NHS, British athletes and footballers – so wouldn’t it be counterproductive to hand the British flag over to royalists and Conservatives?”
But in a roundabout way, ironists and reclaimers are doing the same thing: both are excavating new meaning from the recent past. Some are revisiting embarrassing old symbols, others are reliving fond childhood memories, while others, like POC adopters, are creating new meaning from symbols they’ve always been told weren’t theirs. As Groves puts it, “The Union Jack has a wide range of cultural meanings, both positive and negative, and it can be constantly reinterpreted and reclaimed.” Though for different reasons, the current trend taps into a kind of souvenir-shop aesthetic born in the late 2010s, a throwback to a simpler time when patriotic trinkets were bought on family trips or trips to central London (whether you live in the capital or not). So beneath the layer of irony, adopters are, whether intentionally or not, participating in a full-on nostalgic endeavor. The appearance of the Union Jack on baby t-shirts and beanies across the country may come with a wink or a nudge, but it’s actually triggered by nostalgia that eventually visits us all.
