Once a cheap afterthought for fans, music merch is now setting the pace for fashion’s next wave. For a new generation of designers, the merch table isn’t just a pit stop—it’s the runway.
From bootlegs to backstage
In a world where fashion and fandom collide, music merch has undergone a radical transformation. What was once a Gildan tee with pixelated tour dates slapped on the back has become one of the most dynamic spaces in contemporary design. In 2025, artists aren’t just selling T-shirts—they’re curating collections. And the creatives behind those collections? Some of the most ambitious names in fashion today.
For artist and designer Muntasir Mohamed, the road to redefining music merch began with rejection. Dropping out of a foundational design course, he was left searching for direction. An internship in Kuala Lumpur and a brief stint at London’s Middlesex University gave him just enough footing to start designing for brands like Cole Buxton and Filling Pieces. But his breakout moment came online—through a series of album cover redesigns shared on Instagram. One late night in 2019, a mysterious 3 a.m. call changed everything. “I picked up, and the guy said, ‘I represent Drake. We’re big fans of yours,’” Mohamed recalls. Within hours, he delivered merch for the rapper’s Rock in Rio show—bold, neon-drenched pieces that fans still covet today. That single moment catapulted him into the upper tier of merch design, eventually landing him high-profile collaborations with artists like Olivia Rodrigo.
Merch becomes the main act
The rise of merch as a serious fashion category didn’t happen by accident. During the pandemic, when live music ground to a halt, artists were forced to rethink how they engaged with fans—and how they paid the bills. With touring revenue off the table, merch became a lifeline. And with stans more dedicated (and more willing to spend) than ever, the pressure was on to make each drop count.
The result? A shift from the uninspired graphics of yesteryear—what Mohamed jokingly calls “Microsoft PowerPoint” merch—to capsule collections that rival luxury streetwear. In 2025, artists like SZA, Clairo, Travis Scott, and Sabrina Carpenter are releasing meticulously designed lines that sell out almost instantly. These aren’t just souvenirs—they’re fashion statements.
And for young designers looking to break into the industry, music merch is proving to be a backdoor into high fashion. Many of today’s merch masterminds aren’t just building T-shirts—they’re building entire aesthetics for global stars, and gaining the kind of creative control that even seasoned designers struggle to attain on the runway.
Personal detours, professional breakthroughs
Jeremy Lamberti knows what it’s like to pivot. Once working in PR, his life—and career—were rerouted after a near-fatal car crash forced him to reassess his priorities. As an outlet, he turned to fashion and art, eventually catching the attention of rising rapper Doechii with a custom merch concept that stood out from the crowd.
“Everything out there was just super boring,” Lamberti says. “That didn’t make me want to buy it.” What did? Pieces that told a story—about the artist, the music, the moment. His eye-catching concepts for Doechii earned him a gig designing her merch for Doja Cat’s Scarlet Tour, and later for viral Texas rapper That Mexican OT.
Like Mohamed, Lamberti believes merch is no longer a side hustle. It’s the main show. “Music doesn’t make artists that much money anymore,” he explains. “It’s really merch, tours, and brand deals. So it makes sense they’d want merch that actually looks good.”
Fashion insiders turn to fandom
The creative momentum behind merch isn’t limited to newcomers. Established names in fashion are also gravitating toward the space—drawn in by its freedom, intimacy, and influence.
Take Claire Barrow, the British designer who broke out at 20 when Rihanna wore one of her hand-painted jackets. Though she showed for years at London Fashion Week, Barrow eventually hit pause on her namesake label, citing burnout and the relentless churn of fashion’s seasonal schedule. “I want to make good shit,” she says. “And I want the time to really collaborate—with musicians, with artists. Merch gives me that.”
Barrow’s recent work with cult favorite Bladee—including album art and a small run of coveted merch—exemplifies her crossover appeal. Through her Xtreme Sports line, she now moves freely between art, fashion, and music, with pieces appearing in galleries and on Gen Z icons like Hunter Schafer.
High fashion, high comfort
Then there’s Dewey Bryan Saunders, the Philadelphia-based artist responsible for one of the most iconic album covers of the last decade: Anderson .Paak’s Malibu. Known for his kaleidoscopic, collage-heavy style, Saunders has parlayed his design work into a full-blown fashion brand, High Comfort, which embodies what he calls a “sand and streetwear” sensibility—equal parts psychedelic and SoCal chill.
Whether it’s Grateful Dead drops, Warped Tour graphics, or his own upcoming album (yes, he’s a musician too), Saunders treats each project as an extension of his broader creative universe. “When I’m buying merch, I want it to feel like fashion,” he says. “Something I’d wear all the time—not a tee that shrinks after one wash.”
The new fashion playground
What’s happening now is bigger than any one collection or tour. Music merch is fast becoming a launchpad for the next generation of fashion talent—a creative testing ground where aesthetics are forged, not just sold.
For Mohamed, who once designed logos for German gas companies to get by, the shift is both professional and deeply personal. After years of chasing the attention of Afro-fusion star Burna Boy, he finally landed the project after four failed pitches. The persistence paid off. “Like anything else,” he says, “quality is what keeps people coming.”
And that’s the key. Today’s most exciting fashion isn’t always found on the runway. Sometimes it’s tucked inside a pop-up tent at a festival. Sometimes it’s worn by a fan in the pit. But always, it’s rooted in the same thing: a love of music, and a desire to express it—loudly, stylishly, and together.
