07/30/2026
Why Are the Clothes Being Judged?
Part 2: Branding & Telling the Right Story
In Part 1, I talked about why turnout matters and why I don't believe judges are simply "judging the clothes.”
One of the most common responses I saw to the TikTok discussion was some variation of, "Just let people wear what they want."
I think that's an understandable sentiment, but it overlooks something much bigger.
The conversation isn't really about whether people should be free to wear what they like. Of course they should. The question is whether what they're choosing supports the story they're trying to tell. Those two ideas aren't mutually exclusive. You can absolutely express your personality, wear colors you love, and create something that feels uniquely yours while still making thoughtful, strategic decisions that reinforce the image you're presenting in the show ring.
That's ultimately what branding is.
Before Alden Customs became my full-time career, I spent several years working in digital marketing and brand strategy. Every branding project began with a discovery process. We certainly discussed practical things like products, services, logos, colors, and imagery, but those conversations came later. First, I wanted to understand the identity behind the business.
I would ask questions like: If your brand were a person, how would you describe its personality? Is it modern or traditional? Bold or understated? Luxury or approachable? Who are your competitors, and what makes you different? What emotions do you want people to feel when they interact with your business? What words would you never want someone to use to describe your brand?
Only after answering those questions would we begin designing the visual identity.
That process may sound far removed from custom equestrian apparel, but in reality, it's almost identical.
When I'm designing a custom coat, I certainly want to know what colors my client likes. But I also want to know what discipline they compete in, what classes they show, whether their trainer prefers conservative or fashion-forward turnout, what color their horse is, what colors flatter the rider, and what impression they're hoping to create when they trot through the ingate.
The difference is that, unlike a traditional branding project, much of our framework has already been established for us.
Our breed association gives us a foundation. The discipline narrows that foundation. The individual class specifications narrow it even further. Our trainer often has stylistic preferences, and our horse's strengths, weaknesses, and even personality begin shaping the story before we've selected a single button or piece of fabric.
By the time we're choosing materials, we're not creating a brand from scratch.
We're refining one that already exists.
This is where I think many competitors misunderstand the rulebook.
If we use the USEF Morgan rulebook as an example, the general attire rules for Hunter Pleasure are remarkably broad. Riders are expected to wear appropriate hunter attire, with recommendations for both informal and formal dress, but there is very little language dictating specific colors, patterns, or fabrics.
It's easy to read that and conclude, "As long as I'm wearing a hunt coat, I can design whatever I want."
Technically, that's true.
But I don't believe that's where the conversation ends.
The rulebook tells us what is permitted.
The class specifications begin to tell us what is rewarded.
Those are two very different things.
Even within the Hunter Pleasure division, there are subtle distinctions worth considering. The distinction between informal daytime attire and formal evening attire has become increasingly blurred over the past decade as traditional shadbellies have become less common and fashion fabrics have become more popular. That evolution raises interesting questions. Does a particular silk brocade read as daytime attire, or does it feel more appropriate for an evening championship? Does the sheen of the fabric create a more formal impression? Is this the equestrian equivalent of cocktail attire, or does it read more like black tie? None of these questions are answered explicitly in the rulebook, but I believe they're important considerations when we're thinking about the overall picture.
Now let's narrow our focus even further.
The Ladies Hunter Pleasure class asks judges to reward manners, suitability, quality, cadence, balance, presence, and the apparent ability to provide a pleasant ride. When I read those specifications as a designer, I'm not simply reading a class specification at the top of a judges placing card.
I'm reading a creative brief.
What story is this class asking competitors to tell?
Let's imagine my client's horse is beautiful and possesses ideal breed type, but he's still a little green. Perhaps he becomes strong in the extended gaits or loses a bit of relaxation at the walk. Those characteristics are already pushing against the ideal image of the finished Ladies horse.
Do I really want to reinforce that impression with a high-sheen Barbie-pink silk brocade featuring a bold, oversized pattern that immediately commands attention?
Personally, I wouldn't.
Not because there's anything inherently wrong with that fabric, but because every design decision should support the strengths of the partnership rather than unintentionally drawing attention to its weaknesses.
That doesn't mean the rider has to abandon her personal style. We can still create something distinctly feminine and beautiful. Perhaps that means a soft mauve plaid, a refined cranberry herringbone, or another classic suiting that allows exceptional tailoring to become the focal point. If we're designing for an evening championship, perhaps we introduce a richer silk in a traditional hunting color or a vibrant jewel tone with a more restrained finish. The goal isn't to eliminate personality. It's to channel it in a way that supports the class rather than competing with it.
Now compare that with an Open Hunter Pleasure horse.
The class specifications still value manners and quality, but "presence" and "performance" become much more prominent. These horses are expected to command attention. They're the headline performers of the division.
That changes the branding conversation.
If the horse naturally possesses charisma and the partnership can carry a stronger visual statement, then perhaps a richer brocade, a bolder color palette, or a more fashion-forward design becomes entirely appropriate. The same design that might feel distracting in one class could feel perfectly at home in another because the story being rewarded has changed.
Neither design philosophy is objectively better.
They're simply answering different design briefs.
That's how I approach custom clothing.
I'm never asking, "What's the prettiest fabric?"
I'm asking, "What story are we trying to tell, and does every design decision reinforce that story?"
To me, that's the difference between simply decorating a garment and designing one with intention.
Next week, in the final installment of this series, I want to take this conversation one step further. We'll explore why these details matter by looking at both marketing psychology and sports psychology—how first impressions are formed, how visual cues influence perception, and why thoughtful presentation can affect both the way others perceive us and the way we perform ourselves.
Because once you understand the psychology behind branding, and where that intersects with sports psychology the conversation about turnout becomes even more fascinating.
