Game day dressing: How Dhaka is wearing the World Cup
From replica shirts and customized kits to colour-coordinated outfits, football fans across Dhaka are turning match-day support into a fashion statement that lasts long after the final whistle
The World Cup has reached its knockout stages, and Dhaka already knows which favourites have survived and which have gone home. As the tournament narrows, loyalties are shifting, predictions are changing, and social media timelines are filled with celebrations and heartbreak alike. Yet one ritual remains unchanged: deciding what to wear on match day.
For some, that means pulling on the same jersey they've worn since the opening fixture. For others, it's finally time to customise a football shirt, hunt down the latest merchandise or put together an outfit using nothing more than their team's colours. Even when a favourite nation is eliminated, the clothes rarely disappear with it. Jerseys continue to appear on university campuses, neighbourhood tea stalls, cafés and watch parties long after the final whistle.
Nothing beats the jersey
For a large and loyal segment of fans, there is no substitute for the jersey itself. Worn exactly as it left the factory, it needs no alterations or reinterpretation—just the club crest, the national colours and the name on the back. Comfortable and unmistakable, it announces allegiance before a single word is spoken.
That loyalty plays out with its own rhythm in Dhaka's markets. Jersey sales are driven less by steady demand than by the tournament's twists and turns. One dramatic victory or a last-minute winner can empty shelves within days, while an unexpected elimination quickly cools interest in a team's colours. As the knockout rounds narrow the competition, demand has shifted almost entirely to the remaining contenders, with fans eager to back the teams still chasing the trophy.
Jerseys bought for a single match now appear with jeans on an ordinary weekday, over shorts during an evening walk, or on university campuses with no football in sight. The line between match-day uniform and everyday clothing has blurred; once a fan buys the shirt, it rarely returns to the wardrobe after the tournament ends.
"I've worn this jersey for every match. It's become my lucky shirt at this point. Even if my team loses, I'm still wearing it the next day," said one supporter.
Older supporters tend to wear the jersey much as they always have—loose-fitting, untouched and paired with whatever is already in the wardrobe, because the shirt itself has always been enough. Younger fans, meanwhile, are more likely to see the jersey as a canvas, experimenting with fit, styling and custom details that reflect their own personality. Different approaches, perhaps, but both arrive at the same destination: wearing their team's colours with pride.
Reinvent it as an actual outfit
For another, largely younger, group of fans, the jersey is less a uniform than a starting point. Sized up and knotted at the waist, layered over a slip dress or tucked into tailored trousers, the football shirt becomes just another piece in a carefully considered outfit. If team spirit is going to define the night, it might as well look stylish too.
Some take the idea even further. Jerseys are cropped, sleeves rolled up or removed, and oversized shirts reworked into dresses, co-ords or fitted tops. Throughout the tournament, football shirts have found a second life far beyond the pitch, appearing in street-style posts, fashion campaigns and social media styling videos as genuine wardrobe pieces rather than one-season merchandise. In Dhaka, that same trend has encouraged fans to keep wearing jerseys long after their teams have left the competition.
Accessories complete the look. Hair ribbons in national colours, football-inspired nail art, crossbody bags, scarves and colour-coordinated make-up offer subtle ways to join the celebration without relying on a full jersey. They're also practical. As teams are knocked out and loyalties shift with each round, accessories make it easy to support the night's favourites without buying another shirt.
"I don't need the official shirt to feel involved," said Nuha, a university student. "Sometimes matching my nails or wearing my team's colours feels more like me than putting on a jersey."
Skip the jersey, wear the colours
Not every supporter reaches for a football jersey on match day. For some, the World Cup begins with a quick search through their own wardrobe rather than a trip to the market. No official merchandise, no player names—just clothes that already happen to match the colours of the team they're backing, whatever palette the evening's fixtures call for. No extra spending required.
For many, the choice is as practical as it is stylish. Investing in a shirt for a team that could be eliminated days later doesn't appeal to everyone. Dressing in team colours offers a simple alternative, allowing supporters to join the excitement without committing to a jersey that may spend the rest of the year at the back of the wardrobe.
The approach naturally appeals to people who already enjoy dressing with intention. They know exactly where the sky-blue shirt, the red jacket or the navy trainers are in their wardrobe, and how to combine them into an outfit that reflects the night's fixture without looking like sportswear. Football simply becomes another source of inspiration, folded into a style they already call their own.
"I already had everything in my wardrobe. Instead of buying another jersey, I just put together outfits using the colours of the team I'm supporting," said Nafis, a college student.
For these fans, supporting a team isn't always about wearing its badge. Sometimes, the colours alone say enough.
A city that shows up dressed
Football-inspired fashion has appeared everywhere this World Cup, from designer collaborations and reimagined jerseys to colour-coded street style and social media outfit diaries. Dhaka shares those global trends but interprets them through its own lens.
Yet the story isn't really about jerseys. It's about how football has become woven into everyday life, finding its way into wardrobes as naturally as it fills cafés, living rooms and late-night conversations. Whether through a replica shirt bought from New Market, a customised jersey from an online shop or an outfit assembled entirely from clothes already hanging in the wardrobe, fans are finding their own ways to participate in the spectacle.
Long after the final whistle has blown and the celebrations have faded, the jerseys will return to university campuses, neighbourhood cafés and evening walks, carrying memories of victories, heartbreak and nights spent watching the game together. In Dhaka, supporting the beautiful game isn't just something people watch. It's something they wear.
