The Style and Cultural Heritage of The Rugby Shirt
October 18, 2025
By Karlton Miko Tyack
Ivy Style contributing writer Karlton Miko Tyack holds an AM in Political Economy and Government and an AB in the History of Art and Architecture from Harvard University. Since August 2018, he has served as a Freelance Client Liaison and Client Liaison for Sotheby’s.
“Alas for rugby, football got its house in order. Soon rugby was rare, kept alive at Ivy League schools, at pockets out west, and in clubs in coastal cities often formed by migrants from the empire.”
– Martin Pengelly, Brotherhood: When West Point Rugby Went to War (2023)
From the Harvard-Yale Game to the World Series, my sports fandom spans all levels in autumn. Being part British, the Grand Final of Super League rugby and the start of Premiership Rugby are my two favorite perennials. Honoring that, allow me to rhapsodize over my go-to weekend garment of the season: The classic rugby shirt. GQ reported that this “prep-adjacent staple” dominated at London and New York Fashion Week. Though that’s neither here nor there for the trend-resistant, it certainly proves how stylistically versatile this collared jersey really is.
Like cable-knit jumpers and tweed, the rugger took a function-to-style pipeline, pumped by practicalists and incidental curators of heritage. It was first worn in the 1830s by English schoolboys in, appropriately enough, Rugby, Warwickshire. A bit of a sport historian myself, I can tell you that the original kit included a wool jumper. Players then decided something lighter was required for this frenetic and, frankly, brutal sport.
Enter the rugby shirt. Densely woven cotton would balance durability with movement. Plastic buttons wouldn’t injure you when you got tackled. And of course, the unstructured collar was stark white for visibility and differentiation; it wasn’t until the century’s turn that numbers were added to shirt backs.
When we last visited the rugby shirt here at Ivy Style, we referred to it as a prep staple latecomer. It wasn’t until the ‘80s that Ralph Lauren brought this hooped garment to our sartorial attention. However, while The Official Preppy Handbook doesn’t mention the rugby shirt, it does mention rugby as a “Sport To Play,” humorously adding, “its spectator value is limited, however, to rugby players’ girlfriends.” Though late from a fashion perspective, all things rugby were always a part of Ivy and preppy culture.
So, how did Mr. Lauren make it okay for everyone to wear this sporty tunic, regardless of whether or not they know what a scrum is? My theory: In the ‘80s, rugby shirts started to evolve. By the time the rugby union professionalized in 1995, collars were shrinking, sleeves were shortening, and polyester was introduced. Pro players now wear a technical performance top. Like the cable-knit tennis vest, the collared cotton smock we still call a rugby shirt today became a sort of vintage callback, more style than function—perfectly at home in a brand line-up famous for its polo shirts. During the Gossip-Girl-fueled neo-prep movement in the 2000s, Ralph Lauren even launched its Rugby sub-line, which is sadly now defunct.
Still, both preppy and Ivy style are less about brands and more about representing what and where the Northeastern set works and plays. Sporting style is integral.
I love rugby shirts because they’re comfortable and easy. Even though they’re markedly casual, their structure allows them to pair naturally with loafers and sensible khakis, which is my weekend uniform. On breezy summer days, I’ll wear one with shorts and boat shoes. I’ve even worn them like a jumper, with a more structured collared shirt underneath; rugby shirts layer splendidly, after all.
When comparing rugby to association football, or soccer, fans invoke a quote attributed to Winston Churchill (perhaps apocryphally): “…one is a gentleman’s game played by hooligans; the other a hooligan’s game played by gentlemen.” The film Invictus accurately portrays rugby as the choice upper-class sport in 1995 South Africa. Moreover, rugby players are customarily deferential to referees. When an ornery Tobias Botes raised his voice during a Treviso versus Munster match, Referee Nigel Owens famously told Botes, “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m the referee here, not you… If I hear you shouting again, I will be penalizing you. This is not soccer.”
Within the Anglosphere’s gentlemanly circles, the cultural tension between mannerly class and brute strength is truly ancient—from medieval knights to merchant adventurers to today’s Ivy-educated deal-closers. Infamously, King Charles, then Prince, had his nose broken by a school bully during a rugby match at Gordonstoun. And as someone who’s spent a lot of time around the sport, I know that ruggers love Shakespeare. “He to-day that sheds blood with me/Shall be my brother” from Henry V is posted in many a locker room. Players often reference the “Once more unto the breach…” passage to hype up before matches.
There’s something so inherently preppy about this inextricable relationship between sport and literature, warfare and manners. That’s the heritage behind this simple, collared shirt.
1955 Harvard Rugby Team (Edward M. Kennedy is in the left top row), Credit: John F. Kennedy Presidential Library & MuseumMatt Damon in the 2009 film InvictusFrom the J.Press Fashion Show, The Explorers Club, Credit: J.PressDiana, Princess of Wales, 1997, Credit: GettyPeter Phillip, Gordonstoun School, 1996, Credit: GettyPrince Edward, 1983, Credit: Shutterstock EditorialPrince William, 2010, Credit: GettyThe Official Preppy Handbook, page 100Clipping from the Times Colonist newspaper, Victoria, British Columbia, CanadaThe author (left) in a Harvard University rugby shirtThe author with a Made-in-USA Handmade Vintage Pennant Tote from J. Press
A favorite cool weather evening and weekend “at home” item of mine for going on half a century. My goodness! I still feel 25 (on a good day). My almost 16 year old son loves ’em too. At least I’m doing one thing right.
I have been wearing them for many a year now. Polo does indeed produce solid ones, of which I have a few. I know there are more “authentic” makers, but I never played, so I’m not too concerned about it. I’ll share a secret, which may cost me in the end… Lacoste makes excellent ones and the ‘gator is small and tasteful.
Excellent and informative article. Withernot makes a great rugby that I enjoy wearing if I’m not afraid to get it beat up as they’re pretty sturdy and more influenced by the climbing and outdoor industry’s embrace of the rugby back in the 70s. BB and J. Crew also have made some nicer ones I will wear over a polo with a pair of khakis. BB previously made some that had an oxford lined collar that slightly elevated it. Who else makes good rugbys y’all enjoy?
A few years ago, Beams Plus was making a Shetland wool version of the venerable rugby shirt— rubber buttons and all. I have a couple that are an absolute Godsend in the cold New Hampshire mountains.
Still more proof that a lot of this style was basically (what’s nowadays referred to as) “athleisure” — rooted in sport, loose-fitting, comfortable.
During my undergrad days, rugby shirts (usually L.L. Bean, Lands End, or PoloRL) were seen often, paired with wide-legged sweatpants (usually gray) and casual shoe of choice — sneakers or old, well-worn leather mocs or loafers. Layer with a field coat or hefty tweed. Invariably ball cap. Great look.
By that point, sweatpants (on campus) had conquered jeans and khakis, especially among jocks. Since nearly 100% of the student body played a sport (varsty or club), that was pretty much everybody.
I think a lot of marketed “preppy” falls under the category of overdressed (especially the British country/equestrian/uni stuff). A bit of a misfire. Isn’t this style at its best when it’s decidedly casual and relaxed (underdressed)?
I am in 100% agreement that most stuff marketed as preppy misses the mark. I stand for and dress for the proposition that you can be a very traditional yet casual slob. Right now, indoors, it is shorts and a cotton pbutton down, untucked and with the sleeves rolled up. If it cools down, the shorts will be replaced by slightly high water and frayed, definitely rumpled, khakis. If I go outdoors, I’ll kick into camp mocks and pull on a gimme cap.
Pondering this a bit more, and paying better attention, hopefully, to correcting typos, I remembered that my great grandfather almost always wore a dressy suit, starched shirt, tie, and stick pin. Grandfather wore suits as well, but they were usually tweed. There was no stick pin. He played golf and gardened in a tweed jacket and tie. When not in uniform, my father wore suits, often glen plaids, brown shoes, white shirts, and neats or bowties, tweed jackets for casual wear. He played golf and gardened in slacks.
Along came Ivy, in your face casual. Suits were a rarity. Loafers and white Adlers replaced oxfords. Repp ties flapped freely. Shirts were striped and solid button downs in blue and even yellow and pink! What was worn was worn with a sprezzatura bordering on slouchy. The wearing of frayed cuffs and collars was quite common. Pants rose to reveal ankles. By the closing of that era in the 1960s, sweatshirts, jeans, greying Jack Purcells, going sockless, and ball caps rather than dad’s homburg were all common. Golf was now played in a polo and shorts, often drinking beer and riding in a cart. In short, although the mold was slowly evolving, Ivy flat out broke it. It is ironic that we expend so much of our time and focus disregarding Ivy’s truer nature and talking chiefly about what was worn in dressier settings.
It only makes sense that in its time and place, a slightly faded and loose fitting rugby shirt would catapult to instant popularity.
I have a couple of great rugby shirts from Columbiaknit sportswear that are in rotation from autumn to spring. They are made in the USA, sturdy, run a little big, and come in every conceivable color scheme.
In the mid 80s I was gifted one in pine green. It was heavy, with heavy seams. It had long sleeves and a Henley collar. I used it as a middle layer on really cold days.
Noticed this morning at the gym, a guy wearing a modified rugby, what looked to be a cotton/poly stretch, long sleeve, trad collar with 1/4 zip. Not my bag, but to each his own. Wouldn’t have noticed but for this post.
Just get the numbers right if you are going to wear a numbered one. Nothing like seeing a guy who weighs 110# soaking wet wearing a front row’s numbers. Or the guy who’s 5’9 wearing a second row number.
Princess Di, 1997. Great haircut and pearl earrings! 😍 And lovely sweater, too.
A favorite cool weather evening and weekend “at home” item of mine for going on half a century. My goodness! I still feel 25 (on a good day). My almost 16 year old son loves ’em too. At least I’m doing one thing right.
Kind Mid-October Regards,
Heinz-Ulrich
I have been wearing them for many a year now. Polo does indeed produce solid ones, of which I have a few. I know there are more “authentic” makers, but I never played, so I’m not too concerned about it. I’ll share a secret, which may cost me in the end… Lacoste makes excellent ones and the ‘gator is small and tasteful.
I was actually about to post/pose the question – at 76, am I too old still be wearing rugby shirts? Thank you for answering my question in advance.
One is never too old to wear a stylish classic. The rugby shirt, like the wearer, is timeless.
To answer your question, I imagined my father, who is 93, wearing one. He looked good, so by comparison a 76-year-old could wear one, too!
Great article. There can be something beautiful with rugbies where they give off a relaxed yet classy vibe.
Excellent and informative article. Withernot makes a great rugby that I enjoy wearing if I’m not afraid to get it beat up as they’re pretty sturdy and more influenced by the climbing and outdoor industry’s embrace of the rugby back in the 70s. BB and J. Crew also have made some nicer ones I will wear over a polo with a pair of khakis. BB previously made some that had an oxford lined collar that slightly elevated it. Who else makes good rugbys y’all enjoy?
A few years ago, Beams Plus was making a Shetland wool version of the venerable rugby shirt— rubber buttons and all. I have a couple that are an absolute Godsend in the cold New Hampshire mountains.
In my memory, the buttons were rubber, not plastic. Be sure to choose the colors of your club or school, not someone else’s.
That was what I thought, as well. Did plastic even exist in the mid-1800s?
Great piece — thanks.
Still more proof that a lot of this style was basically (what’s nowadays referred to as) “athleisure” — rooted in sport, loose-fitting, comfortable.
During my undergrad days, rugby shirts (usually L.L. Bean, Lands End, or PoloRL) were seen often, paired with wide-legged sweatpants (usually gray) and casual shoe of choice — sneakers or old, well-worn leather mocs or loafers. Layer with a field coat or hefty tweed. Invariably ball cap. Great look.
By that point, sweatpants (on campus) had conquered jeans and khakis, especially among jocks. Since nearly 100% of the student body played a sport (varsty or club), that was pretty much everybody.
I think a lot of marketed “preppy” falls under the category of overdressed (especially the British country/equestrian/uni stuff). A bit of a misfire. Isn’t this style at its best when it’s decidedly casual and relaxed (underdressed)?
I am in 100% agreement that most stuff marketed as preppy misses the mark. I stand for and dress for the proposition that you can be a very traditional yet casual slob. Right now, indoors, it is shorts and a cotton pbutton down, untucked and with the sleeves rolled up. If it cools down, the shorts will be replaced by slightly high water and frayed, definitely rumpled, khakis. If I go outdoors, I’ll kick into camp mocks and pull on a gimme cap.
Pondering this a bit more, and paying better attention, hopefully, to correcting typos, I remembered that my great grandfather almost always wore a dressy suit, starched shirt, tie, and stick pin. Grandfather wore suits as well, but they were usually tweed. There was no stick pin. He played golf and gardened in a tweed jacket and tie. When not in uniform, my father wore suits, often glen plaids, brown shoes, white shirts, and neats or bowties, tweed jackets for casual wear. He played golf and gardened in slacks.
Along came Ivy, in your face casual. Suits were a rarity. Loafers and white Adlers replaced oxfords. Repp ties flapped freely. Shirts were striped and solid button downs in blue and even yellow and pink! What was worn was worn with a sprezzatura bordering on slouchy. The wearing of frayed cuffs and collars was quite common. Pants rose to reveal ankles. By the closing of that era in the 1960s, sweatshirts, jeans, greying Jack Purcells, going sockless, and ball caps rather than dad’s homburg were all common. Golf was now played in a polo and shorts, often drinking beer and riding in a cart. In short, although the mold was slowly evolving, Ivy flat out broke it. It is ironic that we expend so much of our time and focus disregarding Ivy’s truer nature and talking chiefly about what was worn in dressier settings.
It only makes sense that in its time and place, a slightly faded and loose fitting rugby shirt would catapult to instant popularity.
I’m all for casual slob! Love the look…
I have a couple of great rugby shirts from Columbiaknit sportswear that are in rotation from autumn to spring. They are made in the USA, sturdy, run a little big, and come in every conceivable color scheme.
In the mid 80s I was gifted one in pine green. It was heavy, with heavy seams. It had long sleeves and a Henley collar. I used it as a middle layer on really cold days.
Noticed this morning at the gym, a guy wearing a modified rugby, what looked to be a cotton/poly stretch, long sleeve, trad collar with 1/4 zip. Not my bag, but to each his own. Wouldn’t have noticed but for this post.
Just get the numbers right if you are going to wear a numbered one. Nothing like seeing a guy who weighs 110# soaking wet wearing a front row’s numbers. Or the guy who’s 5’9 wearing a second row number.