So much more than a font: Why World Cup typography and branding inspires generations
So, here I am writing this piece about the World Cup trying to make it relevant to what I do for a living, but also desperately trying to write something that is honest. Am I jumping on a World Cup design argument bandwagon? Nope. Yes, as I’m working in marketing and brand you’d expect me to have a specific hardline point of view: I hate this, I love this… this is wrong because it isn’t viewable on mobile… blah blah blah.
Again, nope – this is the guy who remembers sitting in his friends house during World Cups as a kid, reading through heavy books playing ‘picksies’ on stadiums, exciting badges or club crests and marvelling over the stats of key players. I was the kid who had the box of Sensible Soccer for the Atari ST pinned to his bedroom wall because the orange of Ruud Gullit’s Holland kit that was the main image was mind-blowing. As a young boy, I didn’t follow my home town team, I supported AC Milan because of their kit (well, and Ruud Gullit…). That red and black top against pure white shorts and socks in the noise of the San Siro on Channel 4 on a Sunday afternoon was breathtaking and I had to have it.
Cut to today. Whenever a new FIFA World Cup identity is unveiled, the reaction is almost guaranteed. Some people love it, some people dislike it, and designers will always debate the finer points of kerning, weight and legibility. Social media naturally fills with opinions and there’s always a few headlines inevitably asking whether FIFA has made the right choice with X,Y or Z. I’ve got to be honest, we’re now two games into the group stages and despite turning my allegiance to F1 in recent years, that old niggle is there, I’m becoming more and more invested and the colours I am witnessing just make me smile.
The recent discussion surrounding the typography for the 2026 FIFA World Cup follows a pattern that is almost as old as the tournament itself. Yet focusing solely on whether a particular typeface succeeds or fails, risks overlooking something much more significant: the role design plays in shaping how generations remember the world’s biggest sporting event.
The FIFA World Cup is one of the most recognisable global cultural events ever created. The 2022 tournament in Qatar generated engagement across more than five billion interactions spanning television, streaming, social media and digital platforms, while the final itself reached an estimated 1.42 billion viewers worldwide. Few creative projects on Earth receive that level of exposure.
Every poster, ticket, stadium graphic, social media asset, broadcast package, mascot, shirt number and typeface becomes part of a visual identity that is experienced across continents, languages and cultures. The design system surrounding a World Cup is seen by billions.
For many people, memories of World Cups are inseparable from the visual identities that accompanied them. Ask football supporters about Mexico 1970 and they often recall the bold graphic style that reflected the country’s vibrant artistic heritage. Mention USA ’94 and many remember a tournament that embraced bright colours and a distinctly American approach to sports presentation. France ’98 introduced a more contemporary visual language for a digital age, while South Africa 2010 brought a sense of movement, rhythm and energy that reflected both football and culture. More recently, Qatar 2022 demonstrated how a tournament identity can draw inspiration from local traditions while still functioning across an increasingly digital-first media landscape.
I can year you screaming at your screen – “What about Italia 90 and the Ciao cube dude dressed in red white and green!!” Don’t worry, I was just testing your memory and anger management. I say that last part not in jest either, people get ultra passionate about this, and rightly so in my opinion.
At the time, none of these identities were universally praised but they didn’t need to be. Design rarely succeeds through unanimous agreement, but does so when it creates recognition, connection and memory.
The reality is that today’s young designers, marketers, illustrators and creative professionals are often inspired by things they encounter long before they understand the theory behind them. A child might not be analysing typography while watching a World Cup final – I wasn’t – but they are absorbing visual language. They are noticing colours, shapes, logos, animations and graphics. They are forming opinions about what feels exciting, modern, expressive or memorable.
Many careers in the creative industries begin exactly this way. A poster of Franco Baresi on a bedroom wall was probably mine, but don’t forget your attachment to a sticker albums, a football shirt, or a tournament logo. (Ahem, Italy…)
The creative spark that eventually leads somebody into graphic design, branding, motion graphics or digital marketing often arrives through popular culture rather than formal education. This is why the debate I’ve been reading around World Cup typography is actually encouraging.
It demonstrates that people still care deeply about visual communication. In an era where content is consumed faster than ever before, where social feeds are refreshed in seconds and attention is increasingly fragmented, it would be easy for design to become invisible. Instead, people continue to discuss it, analyse it and challenge it and that level of engagement speaks to the enduring influence of great design.
From a branding perspective, the challenge facing FIFA in 2026 is arguably greater than at any previous tournament. The competition will feature 48 teams, 104 matches and host cities across three nations. It will be consumed across broadcast television, mobile devices, social media platforms, streaming services, gaming environments and technologies that barely existed during previous tournaments, therefore the visual identity must work everywhere.
It must be recognisable on a giant stadium screen and equally effective on a smartphone display. It must speak to lifelong supporters and first-time viewers. It must appeal to audiences spanning generations, cultures and languages.
Now let me tell you something – that is an extraordinarily difficult brief.
Will every design decision resonate with every individual? Of course not, but perhaps that misses the point.
For me, as an older version of the kid who used to draw the Ciao dude everywhere after Italia 90, and created in crayons a life size mural of Ruud Gullit in his AC Milan kit on my bedroom wall in between wallpaper changes – the true measure of a World Cup identity is whether, years later, people see it and are instantly transported back to a particular summer, a particular match, a particular goal or a particular moment shared with friends and family.
The greatest tournament identities become woven into our memories. They become part of football history itself. As designers and marketers, that is something worth celebrating.
While football may provide the moments we remember, design often provides the visual language through which we remember them.