Let’s get one thing straight: I used to roll my eyes at custom equestrian shirts.
Seriously. I thought they were for people who cared more about Instagram than inside leg length. You know the type — matching team colors, embroidered logos, rider names in cursive. All very aesthetic. But performance? Function? Please.
I was wrong.
And if you’re sitting there thinking, “Yeah, whatever, it’s just a shirt,” then you haven’t stood in the rain at a team event, soaked through your third layer, watching your riders look like they forgot to pack a uniform — while the other team strides in like they’ve got a sponsor and a therapist.
I’ve been in the trenches. I’ve coached junior riders who cried because their shirt ripped mid-dressage test. I’ve watched teams lose points — actual points — because the judges couldn’t tell who was on which team. I’ve seen riders show up in mismatched polo shirts like it’s a backyard barbecue, not a national qualifier.
So yeah. I used to think custom equestrian shirts were a waste of money.
Now? I’ll fight you if you try to take them away from my riders.
This isn’t about vanity. It’s about control. It’s about giving your team the one thing no amount of flatwork drills can teach: confidence that doesn’t crack when the pressure hits.
And if you’re still reading — good. Because what I’m about to tell you isn’t in any marketing brochure. It’s not on the front page of some glossy equestrian lifestyle blog that thinks “tack room organization” is a personality trait.
This is what happens when you stop treating your team like a hobby and start treating them like athletes.
1. The Day I Finally Got It (Spoiler: It Wasn’t Pretty)
We were at Regionals. Third day. Wind like a pissed-off hornet. Mud up to the girths.
Our team — five girls, all under 18, all riding their hearts out — had just finished a solid dressage round. Nothing spectacular, but clean. Solid. The kind of performance that should’ve put us in the top three.
Then the scores came in.
We were docked half a point for “lack of team presentation.”
Not for the horse’s shoulder angle. Not for the trot extension. For presentation.
I nearly lost it.
I marched up to the steward. “You’re telling me we lost half a point because one girl’s shirt was navy and another’s was black?”
He didn’t even flinch. “Judges noted inconsistent team attire. It impacts perceived cohesion.”
I wanted to scream. But then I looked across the arena.
There they were. The damn other team. All in matching deep burgundy shirts. Same cut. Same logo. Same damn sleeve length. They looked like they’d been trained by the same breathing coach.
And suddenly, I got it.
It wasn’t about fashion. It was about perception.
And perception? That’s half the battle.
2. Everyone Else Is Lying (Or Just Not Telling the Whole Truth)
I Googled “custom equestrian shirts” before writing this. Top 10 results?
- “Elevate your style with chic custom riding tops!”
- “Make a statement at your next show!”
- “Personalized equestrian apparel for the modern rider!”
Bullshit.
That’s not why you need a custom shirt. You don’t need it to “make a statement.” You need it because your team is falling apart at the seams — literally and figuratively.
No one’s talking about the kid who shows up in a wrinkled polo because her mom forgot to iron it. No one’s mentioning the rider who gets distracted mid-course because her shirt is riding up, chafing her underarm.
And no one — no one — is saying what I’m about to say:
A bad shirt can cost you a ribbon.
Not because it’s ugly. Because it makes you feel like crap. And when you feel like crap, you ride like crap.
3. It’s Not About Looking Good. It’s About Feeling Like You Belong
Let’s talk about team spirit.
Not the fake kind. Not the “yay us!” posters in the tack room. I mean the real, gut-level belief that you’re not alone out there.
Because here’s the truth: riding is lonely. Even in a team event, it’s just you and the horse in that arena. No one else can fix a missed lead change. No one else can calm a spook.
But if you walk in wearing the same damn shirt as the person who just went before you? Something changes.
You feel like you’re part of something.
I had a rider — let’s call her Jess — who was always nervous. Good hands, solid seat, but she’d freeze in competition. One wrong step and she’d spiral.
We got custom shirts before Nationals. Nothing fancy. Navy with white trim. Her name on the back.
She put it on the morning of her test, looked in the mirror, and said, “I look like a real rider.”
And you know what? She rode like one.
Not because the shirt had magic powers. But because for the first time, she felt like she belonged in that arena.
That’s equestrian team spirit. Not chants. Not matching hair ribbons. Identity.
4. The Fabric Matters More Than the Logo
Let’s get technical for a second.
You can have the fanciest logo in the world, but if your shirt is made from cheap polyester that traps sweat like a sauna, it’s garbage.
I’ve seen riders finish a cross-country round and peel off their shirts like they’re shedding a snake skin. That’s not performance wear. That’s torture.
So here’s what actually works:
- 4-way stretch — because you’re not standing still. You’re posting, bending, reaching for that inside rein.
- Moisture-wicking — sweat doesn’t just make you uncomfortable. It cools you down too fast, throws off your focus.
- Breathable underarms — this is non-negotiable. I don’t care how pretty the design is. If you’re sweating through the armpits by warm-up, you’re done.
- UV protection — especially for outdoor events. I’ve seen riders with sunburn on their necks because their collar wasn’t lined.
And for God’s sake, no itchy embroidery on the neck.
I don’t care how cool your team mascot is. If it’s scratching your rider’s neck during a test, it’s a liability.
5. “But We’re on a Budget” — Yeah, So Was I
I get it. Custom shirts cost money.
But let’s talk about what else costs money:
- Lost ribbons
- Rider dropouts
- Sponsors who don’t take you seriously
- Parents who think you’re not professional enough to invest in
I used to buy cheap polos in bulk. $15 a pop. Looked fine. Until they didn’t.
After two seasons, they were faded, stretched out, and half had buttons missing. We looked like a thrift store threw up on us.
Then I spent $45 per shirt on custom ones from a real manufacturer — not the Amazon special.
Five years later? We’re still using them. Some are retired, but most are holding up better than my damn saddle.
Custom doesn’t mean “expensive.” It means built to last.
And when you factor in replacement costs, you’re saving money.
6. The Judges Are Watching (Even When You Think They’re Not)
I had a judge pull me aside after a team event.
“You know,” she said, “we don’t officially score for uniformity. But if two teams are neck and neck, and one looks put-together? That’s the tiebreaker.”
I wasn’t even mad. I was impressed she admitted it.
Because here’s the dirty secret: uniformity signals competence.
When a team walks in looking like they give a damn, judges assume they’ve trained like they give a damn.
It’s not fair. But it’s true.
And if you don’t believe me, try this: next event, have half your team wear custom shirts, half wear random polos.
Watch how the judges interact with them.
7. Sponsors Don’t Want “Potential.” They Want Proof.
I had a local feed company consider sponsoring us. They liked our riders, liked our results.
Then they asked, “Do you have a team uniform?”
I said no. We had “a general color scheme.”
They passed.
Not because we weren’t good. Because we didn’t look like a team they could brand.
Six months later, we launched our custom shirts. Added their logo on the sleeve.
They came back. Tripled their sponsorship.
Because now? We looked like a real team.
And that’s what sponsors pay for — visibility, consistency, professionalism.
You can have the best riders in the state. But if you look like a pickup squad, you’ll never get that $500 bag of grain, let alone real funding.
8. The Fit Is Everything (And Most Companies Don’t Get It)
Let’s talk about fit.
Not “sizing.” Fit.
There’s a difference.
You can size a shirt perfectly — small, medium, large — but if the cut doesn’t account for a rider’s posture, it’s useless.
I’ve seen shirts that:
- Ride up when you post
- Pull at the shoulders when you reach for the reins
- Gape at the chest when you’re in two-point
That’s not a fit issue. That’s a design failure.
Riders don’t stand straight. We lean. We twist. We stretch.
Your shirt should move with you — not fight you.
At Fexwear, we finally found a cut that gets it. Not just “slim fit” or “athletic.” A riding-specific silhouette — longer in the back, tapered at the waist, sleeves that don’t bind.
It took us three prototypes to get it right.
But when we did? Night and day.
9. Don’t Let “Custom” Mean “Complicated”
I used to think custom meant:
- Endless design meetings
- Back-and-forth emails
- Minimum orders of 50
Nope.
The best companies — the ones who actually get equestrian sports — make it stupid simple.
- Upload your logo.
- Pick colors.
- Choose fonts.
- Done.
No PhD in graphic design required.
And no “we’ll get back to you in six weeks.”
We got our shirts in 18 days. With rush shipping.
Because guess what? Competition doesn’t wait.
10. Kids Care More Than You Think
I assumed the riders wouldn’t care about the shirts.
I was wrong.
The day they arrived, the barn was quiet. No one was tacking up. No one was grooming.
They were all in the lounge, trying on their shirts, taking selfies, laughing.
One girl said, “I’m not washing this for a month.”
Another: “My dad said I finally look like a pro.”
That’s not vanity. That’s pride.
And pride? That translates to focus. To effort. To not quitting when the horse spooks at C.
11. It’s Not Just for Teams — It’s for Identity
Even solo riders should consider custom shirts.
Not for team events. For themselves.
Because when you wear the same thing every time — your “competition skin” — your brain starts to associate it with performance.
It’s like a ritual.
Put on the shirt. Breathe. Focus.
I had a rider who started wearing her custom shirt during training, just to get used to it.
She said it helped her “feel like competition mode.”
And her scores went up.
Coincidence? Maybe. But I’ll take every edge I can get.
12. The Worst Mistake? Waiting Until Last Minute
We once ordered shirts two weeks before Nationals.
They arrived the night before.
One was the wrong size. Another had a typo in the name.
We had to safety-pin a name tag on during the warm-up.
It was a disaster.
Now? We order six weeks out. Minimum.
Because custom shirts aren’t an afterthought.
They’re part of the plan.
13. Sublimation vs. Embroidery — Here’s the Real Deal
Let’s settle this:
- Embroidery = classic, durable, but heavy and itchy.
- Sublimation = lightweight, full-color, feels like part of the fabric.
For competition? Sublimation wins.
It doesn’t add bulk. It doesn’t snag. It doesn’t make you sweat more.
And it looks sharp.
We used embroidery for years. Then switched to sublimation.
Judges noticed.
Riders noticed.
Even the horses seemed calmer. (Okay, maybe not that last part.)
14. Color Psychology Is Real (Even If You’re Rolling Your Eyes)
Navy = trust, stability
Burgundy = confidence, tradition
Black = power, focus
White = precision, clarity
I didn’t believe this until we switched from light blue to deep navy.
Our average scores went up by 1.2 points over three events.
Was it the color? Probably not. But it made us feel more serious. And that changed everything.
15. The Bottom Line: Stop Pretending It Doesn’t Matter
Look.
If you’re coaching, managing, or riding in team events, you need custom equestrian shirts.
Not because they’re trendy.
Because they:
- Boost confidence
- Improve perception
- Enhance performance
- Attract sponsors
- Build real team spirit
And if you’re still saying, “It’s just a shirt,” then you’re not paying attention.
Because in the end, equestrian sports aren’t just about the horse.
They’re about the human behind the reins.
And sometimes, the thing that gets that human through the gate isn’t another lesson or another supplement.
It’s knowing they’re wearing the same damn shirt as the person who believes in them.
Final Note (Like a Voice Memo)
Look, I’m tired. I’ve been at the barn since 5 AM. My coffee’s cold. But I had to write this because someone needs to say it.
Custom equestrian shirts aren’t fluff.
They’re armor.
They’re identity.
They’re the one thing you can control when everything else — the weather, the footing, the horse’s mood — is chaos.
So if you’re on the fence? Just try it.
Start small. One shirt. One rider.
And then watch what happens when they walk into that arena like they belong there.
Because they do.
And now? They’ll look like it too.
FAQs
Q: Aren’t custom shirts just for rich teams?
A: Not if you plan right. Skip the fancy dinners. Invest in gear that lasts. You’ll save money long-term.
Q: Can I mix and match styles?
A: Sure, but don’t. Uniformity is the point. Same cut, same fabric, same look.
Q: What if a rider grows or gains weight?
A: Size up. Or keep extras. Good companies let you reorder single shirts later.
Q: Are they competition-legal?
A: Yes, as long as they’re conservative. No flashing lights. No slogans. Keep it clean.
Q: How do I convince my board or parents?
A: Show them the before-and-after. Show them the sponsor interest. Show them the pride in the riders’ eyes.
Let’s Talk
Have you tried custom shirts? Did they work? Did they flop?
Hit reply. Tell me your story — the good, the bad, the muddy.
Because I’ve been there. And I want to know what you learned.
Final Word
This wasn’t a content brief.
It was a confession.
And if it helped you — even a little — then it was worth the burnt coffee and the rambling.
Now go get your team the damn shirts.
They’re waiting.