W.B.D.
FASHION

The Polo Ascendancy: How a £75 French Terrycloth Shirt Became the Ultimate Status Signal for the Modern Man

By W.B.D. Editorial
The Polo Ascendancy: How a £75 French Terrycloth Shirt Became the Ultimate Status Signal for the Modern Man

In the rarefied ecosystem of ultra-high-net-worth wardrobes, the signal of true privilege is rarely the bespoke morning suit or the limited-edition watch. It is the studied nonchalance of a perfectly cut polo shirt, worn as if it were an afterthought. When Callum Turner emerged in Palermo during his nuptials to Dua Lipa, the fashion world did not obsess over the Louis Vuitton tailoring; it dissected his £75 terrycloth polo from Octobre Editions. That a garment costing less than a dinner at Le Bernardin could command such attention speaks to a seismic shift in how the affluent communicate status. The polo shirt has ceased to be mere sportswear—it is now the defining emblem of a new, understated aristocracy.

The numbers are staggering, and they are not confined to the runways of Paris. Thomas Tuchel, managing England’s World Cup campaign, chose a merino wool polo from Marks & Spencer—a piece that has generated £3.1 million in sales since March, with 126,000 units sold. On Pinterest, searches for “polo shirt” have surged 120% since December. The players are not limited to football managers and pop-star husbands; they include pundits like Gary Neville, Roy Keane, and Ange Postecoglou, each layered in mint green, cream, and beige. Even Andy Burnham, fresh from his Makerfield by-election victory, appeared in a blue polo with jeans and Birkenstocks—a deliberate nod to the everyman, but one that resonates deeply with the power elite. The polo shirt has become the uniform of the decision-makers.

What elevates this garment from commodity to collector’s item is its heritage and craftsmanship. The modern polo traces its DNA to the 1930s, when tennis legend René Lacoste retired and began manufacturing the pique cotton shirt with a collar he had worn on court. Fred Perry followed in 1952. But the true refinement came in the 1970s, when Ralph Lauren codified the American preppy aesthetic, transforming a functional sports shirt into a symbol of leisure-class belonging. Today, brands like Octobre Editions refine the concept further—their terrycloth iteration, retailing at £75, is a masterclass in texture and restraint. Arthur Person, the brand’s director, notes that the polo shares DNA with the quarter-zip, another preppy staple; together, they cover every situation a man might face. This is not fashion as spectacle; it is fashion as armor.

The resurgence signals a profound shift in the luxury market’s psychology. The ultra-wealthy are moving away from loud logos and toward what Heather Clark, head of fashion at Pinterest, calls “courtside and coastal prep.” The polo anchors this trend: polished enough for a boardroom, relaxed enough for a yacht deck. It signals that its wearer belongs to the class of people who can afford to look effortless. The polo shirt’s preppy roots—born on the polo fields of British India, refined on the tennis courts of France, and democratized by American Ivy League style—now serve as a shorthand for inherited taste. It is the uniform of the quietly powerful, the men who do not need to announce their arrival because they have already arrived.

Looking forward, the polo shirt’s trajectory is clear. It will continue to bifurcate into sub-categories: the courtside polo for the racket-sport set, the coastal prep polo for the Hamptons and Saint-Tropez. Expect bespoke iterations from houses like Loro Piana and Brunello Cucinelli, where cashmere and sea-island cotton replace basic pique. The polo will become a canvas for micro-luxury—hand-finished buttons, custom monograms, limited runs of 100 pieces. For the man who owns everything, the polo shirt is the final frontier of discernment. It is not about the price tag; it is about the story, the fit, and the quiet confidence of knowing that a £75 shirt can hold its own against a seven-figure watch.

To experience this lifestyle, one does not need a wedding in Palermo or a World Cup sideline pass. Begin with a single, exceptional piece: a terrycloth polo from Octobre Editions, a merino wool version from a heritage British maker, or a pique cotton shirt from a Florentine atelier. Wear it with tailored chinos and unlined loafers. The rest will follow.

The Experience

To curate your own courtside-to-coastal wardrobe, book a private consultation with our style editors, who will source limited-production polos from ateliers in Paris, Florence, and London.