US president Donald Trump has a particular look. Sharp navy suits, overly long ties and crisp white shirts, always structured to command attention. It's a power uniform rooted in a very traditional idea of masculine elegance. Trump wants it to look expensive, meticulously crafted, consistent, and entirely his own.
Authors
- Arooj Rashid
Senior Lecturer in Marketing, Nottingham Trent University
- Anthony Kent
Professor of Fashion Marketing, Nottingham Trent University
Behind the populist slogans and "Buy American" rhetoric, this president has long embraced symbols of global luxury. While he's worn American tailoring from Brooklyn's Martin Greenfield - a craftsman who has dressed everyone from Barack Obama to Colin Powell - he has also been a longstanding customer of Brioni, an exclusive Italian brand of tailored clothing.
So, while campaigning for American-made goods Trump has for years enjoyed the prestige of the "Made in Italy" tag, and the luxurious connotations it brings to menswear.
But his trade policies have done the opposite for the global fashion industry. By threatening massive trade tariffs on countries like China, Vietnam, Bangladesh, India and Pakistan, he has potentially created chaos for both the industry and consumers.
Traditionally, what's known as "country of origin" has been represented by the "made in" label, a key branding tool that can shape consumer perceptions of product quality and other attributes. However, as globalisation has led to the outsourcing of design, materials and production, the definition has become increasingly complex.
"Designed in" and "country of brand origin" have come to define prestigious product qualities, while country image is used to reflect perceptions of a nation and its products. For example, "designed in Italy" often evokes craftsmanship and luxury in fashion goods. Similarly, Germany has a historical reputation for excellence in producing cars. And "Japanese brand origin" is associated with cutting-edge technology and reliability, particularly in electronics and vehicles.
Two decades ago, as production costs in the US and Europe mounted, clothing production moved to Asia. While China has remained an important supplier, trade tensions saw production move to countries including Vietnam, India and Bangladesh in the early mid-2010s. But with the threat of new tariffs on these countries, brands are scrambling again.
This time they have far fewer alternatives. And for companies that rely on the storytelling behind where a garment is made, this isn't just a supply chain headache. It's an identity crisis.
In fashion, a garment's origin is not merely a logistical detail - it's part of its identity. Labels like "made in Italy", "made in India" or "made in Bangladesh" carry different connotations. These could be luxury and craftsmanship - embroidery skills, for example - or affordability at scale.
Over time, brands have cultivated these country associations as part of their marketing strategies, shaping consumer perception and trust. The result is a strategic decision for fashion companies, which must now consider cost and efficiency and how changing suppliers might affect their brand's perceived values and identity.
For example, brands like H&M and Levi Strauss & Co. have promoted their ethical sourcing in India or partnerships in Pakistan due to their expertise. But now they risk being taxed extensively. So what is the solution?
The impact on consumers
The growing risk of new trade rules and tariffs is making it harder for countries that supply fashion goods to stay competitive.
First, brands must re-assess globalisation of the fashion industry and develop alternative supply chains. While a quick shift may be possible for simpler fashion products, relocating production for more complex or premium goods is usually a long-term investment. As a result, brands will be investigating country images that are perceived to be trusted and trustworthy as trading partners.
But one unexpected outcome of these policies may be the return of European production and the emergence of "safe" sourcing locations in countries less exposed to trading restrictions. This could be Portugal and Romania for mid-market clothing, and Italy for high-end fashion goods. These would be more predictable and offer a globally recognised brand image.
For some companies, shifting production to Italy will allow them to maintain product prestige while avoiding some of the eye-watering tariffs threatened for some Asian countries. Meanwhile others may look to move back to the UK because of its association with younger, niche markets.
This won't necessarily make clothing cheaper for consumers. It does though offer a level of reassurance, especially for higher-end or mid-market labels looking to preserve their image amid instability.
Trump's own affinity for Brioni reflects this implicit value. Though his public rhetoric prioritised American manufacturing, his choice of a luxury Italian tailor speaks to a broader truth: country image matters. And in fashion, it can be everything.
The consequences of these trade policies are now visible across the fashion ecosystem. For example, American brands like Everlane and Pact are built around affordability and transparency. They rely on production in south or south-east Asia, and now face the challenge of rising costs.
Larger companies will be rethinking pricing strategies, renegotiating contracts or halting expansion in regions hardest hit by tariffs.
For consumers, this could mean higher prices and reduced variety. The label inside a garment now tells a more complex story - not only of where it was made but also of the political and economic forces shaping global trade.
Even if these tariffs are eventually reduced or reversed, the disruption they have caused has already left a mark. They have redefined the meaning and importance of country-of-origin labels, exposed the fragility of global supply chains, and placed new pressure on brands to balance ethics, economics and image in a volatile environment. In fashion, where identity is crafted through fabric and narrative, the story behind the label has never mattered more.
The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
