From croissant bags to sausage roll earrings: How food merch became the new fashion statement

As Lidl and Greggs release accessory versions of their most-beloved bakery items, Hannah Twiggs looks at how food merch has gone from ironic gimmick to full-blown cultural movement and asks what our choice of fashionable food brand accessories, from totes to tees and beyond, says about us

Lidl’s bag retailed at 59p, with all proceeds going to charity – now you can get it on eBay for £200 (Lidl press handout)

Fashion and food – two of life’s great indulgences, capable of sparking joy, confusion and, increasingly, sheer bewilderment. We now live in a world where Lidl – yes, that bastion of the bargain aisle – has launched a croissant-shaped handbag and Greggs has released gold-plated sausage roll earrings.

Somewhere in the middle of this great cultural mash-up, food and fashion have decided to shack up, and the result is less haute couture and more haute carb. Has food merch gone mad? Of course it has. The question is, how mad have we gone along with it?

Lidl, known for its cheap croissants and even cheaper prosecco, has somehow found itself on the frontlines of London Fashion Week (13-17 September). They’ve teamed up with designer Nikolas Bentel to produce a handbag that looks like a croissant. Sold out in two minutes, no less. So now you can stroll down Oxford Street with a buttery, golden-brown pastry slung over your shoulder, because… why not?

Lidl’s not alone in this madness. Greggs has gone one step further. They’ve released a line of 22-carat gold-plated jewellery. Sausage rolls for your ears, jam biscuits dangling from your neck and a charm bracelet featuring a steak bake.

Dion Kitson, the artist behind this collection, must be having the time of his life watching people fawn over his golden tributes to baked goods. “It’s about having fun with something we know and love,” he said. Fun, yes. Sensible? We left that behind a long time ago.

Wearing your favourite supermarket, bakery or restaurant’s merch is no longer the sole domain of oat milk devotees in ethically sourced beanie hats. No, it’s gone mainstream, with thousands of us clamouring to don croissant bags and gold sausage roll earrings as if they were the latest must-have from Prada. The absurdity is baked in.

This isn’t just a flash in the pan, though. Food merch has become a full-blown movement, from the odd tote bag to whole fashion lines. St John, Fergus Henderson and Trevor Gulliver’s temple to nose-to-tail dining, drops annual collections of fisherman jackets, T-shirts, sweatshirts, tote bags, tea towels and even bread bags, all adorned with their iconic pig logo. Yard Sale Pizza, known for its quirky collaborations, has a cult following not just for its pies but for its limited edition tees.

The jewellery collection is the latest collaboration for Greggs, which previously had a fashion line in Primark (Greggs)

BAO, with its instantly recognisable “Lonely Man” logo has punters clamouring for their T-shirts as much as their pork-filled buns. Top Cuvée, a north London wine bar, has seen its minimalistic merch line take on a life of its own. Max’s Sandwich Shop, responsible for putting weird things between two slices of bread, regularly drops eye-popping T-shirts with slogans that would make your nan blush. “F**k sourdough” is a particular favourite. And lest we forget the recent frenzy over Waitrose’s “Tart” bag, which had shoppers flocking to stores to snag what was essentially described as the most sexually aggressive supermarket tote in existence.

There’s a distinct whiff of irony in the air, but let’s not kid ourselves: this stuff is shifting. In fact, it’s flying off the shelves faster than you can say, “pass the ’nduja”.

The crossover between fashion and food merch makes more sense when you consider how the fashion world has been blurring the lines between high and low for years. Back in 2017, Balenciaga caused a stir by selling a £1,705 version of Ikea’s iconic 40p blue shopper, the Frakta bag. A design that was once a functional, disposable item suddenly became a luxury status symbol.

If people were willing to drop nearly two grand on an upmarket take on a plastic shopping bag, it’s no surprise that croissant-shaped handbags and sausage roll earrings are making waves. The more everyday the object, the more ironic – and desirable – it becomes once recontextualised by a fashion house, or, in this case, a bakery or supermarket.

Really, a St John T-shirt is no different from a vintage band tee, signalling to the world that you know where to find the best offal in London and that you’re not afraid to wear your culinary allegiances on your sleeve (or in this case, chest). But a Kate Spade Heinz ketchup T-shirt for £135 – are you in on the joke or is the joke on you?

In 2017, Balenciaga caused a stir by selling a £1,705 version (right) of Ikea’s iconic 40p Krafta bag (left) (Ikea/Balenciaga)

It’s tempting to dismiss this as a flash of ironic consumerism, but perhaps something more profound is happening. Our supermarkets and restaurants are no longer just purveyors of food; they’ve become lifestyle brands in their own right. They offer an identity, a curated experience, something to post about on Instagram and, crucially, something to buy into. And the buying part is key. Because while food margins are razor-thin, T-shirts? Tote bags? Golden sausage rolls? That’s money in the bank.

Your choice of supermarket, bakery or restaurant says a lot about you. Do you queue for an hour at Jolene in east London, waiting for your artisanal sourdough like it’s a limited-edition drop? Or are you the type to unapologetically grab a sausage roll from Greggs and tell everyone about it?

Do you wax lyrical about the hidden gems in Lidl’s bargain aisle, proudly flashing your croissant bag as proof of your savvy spending? Or do you make it known, with just the right amount of casual smugness, that you’re strictly a Waitrose-only kind of person? If you’re loading your organic quinoa into a “Tart” tote, you’ve basically made it in life, right?

Would you pay £135 for a designer Ketchup T-shirt from Kate Spade? (Kate Spade)

These aren’t just shopping choices – they’re status updates, badges of honour in the ever-competitive game of lifestyle curation. Whether you’re bagging 59p croissants or a Waitrose sourdough boule, each supermarket loyalty is a not-so-subtle declaration of where you sit in the pecking order.

We live in an age where personal branding is everything, right down to your choice of supermarket bag. It’s become the new streetwear, of sorts. We’ve reached a point where a sandwich shop T-shirt has as much clout as anything Supreme or Off-White might churn out. And it makes sense. Food is culture now, just as much as music, art or fashion. Wearing a Yard Sale Pizza T-shirt is no different to wearing a Ramones tee back in the day – only now, it’s pickles and sauces that you’re shouting about, not “Blitzkrieg Bop”.

There’s something sincere about it. In the post-pandemic landscape, where the hospitality industry continues to take a battering, buying restaurant merch is a tangible way to support your favourite spots. In that context, what might seem like frivolous branding takes on a whole new meaning.

Where does it end? Are we on the precipice of an all-out merch war, where every restaurant, bakery and supermarket in the land is vying for a slice of our wardrobes? Maybe. But in fashion and food, nothing stays still for long. What’s next? A Louis Vuitton collaboration with Nando’s? A gold-plated peri-peri sauce bottle?

Whether it’s croissant bags or sausage roll earrings, we’ve fully embraced the madness. And why not? In a world that often feels chaotic and unpredictable, what’s more comforting than clutching a buttery pastry, real or leather, close to your chest?