Long before the Wiggles got into their big red car, there was an orange skivvy that changed the course of Australian political history.
It was the early 1970s when Australian voters were won over by a snug-fitting roll neck, and as election time looms again in 2025, so too does the merchandise pushing the barrows of Canberra's candidates.
Caps, tote bags, umbrellas, coffee mugs, socks and even dog bandanas will be emblazoned with political slogans before voters hit the ballot boxes.
"It's saying, 'I am here, this is me, this is what I stand for - but most importantly, you should vote for me'," Museum of Australian Democracy research co-ordinator Campbell Rhodes told AAP of the campaign material.
The most effective examples capture the zeitgeist, and arguably no object has done this better than the skivvy created for Gough Whitlam's campaign for government, which he went on to win for Labor.
Bright orange, tight fitting and embellished with Mr Whitlam's "It's Time" slogan, it is one of the most iconic pieces of Australian political memorabilia and is now stored at the Museum of Australian Democracy alongside hundreds of other campaign items.
"It's not just adopting popular fashion choices of the era, but it's making this whole representation," Mr Rhodes said.
"This is 1972 Australia in a shirt, and the campaign was probably one of the most successful that has ever been launched."
Prime Minister Anthony Albanese's latest collection, which includes classic items like tees and pins, takes some lessons from his predecessor by featuring long socks with "Albo 2025" printed on the soles in Labor red.
"We're reliably informed by our younger, much cooler Labor supporters that ankle socks are out and sport socks are in," a Labor spokesperson told AAP.
The merchandise line also exemplifies a "presidentialisation" of Australian political messaging, as campaign material has increasingly focused on party leaders rather than individual MPs or the broader movement.
Though this trend has become more prominent in recent years, perhaps reaching its zenith during Labor's Kevin '07 campaign, the political cult of personality is not new.
Billy Hughes, who transitioned to the Nationalist Party after becoming prime minister, campaigned on his own personal appeal more than one hundred years ago.
In a similar style to modern pins, badges from this contest don't show Hughes's name, just his photo with "Vote 1" written underneath.
"His fervour during the First World War was such that you didn't necessarily need his name to know who he was," Mr Rhodes said.
Hughes's face was everywhere during the silent film era and he became so popular that even the English wanted him to become their prime minister.
This kind of ubiquity is still coveted in contemporary politics, especially for independents who don't have party imagery to lean on.
"The candidate is the product, and you need to be able to sell that product to the electorate - to the market - within a period of about four months," Warringah MP Zali Steggall told AAP.
Ms Steggall took Australian politics by storm when she unseated former prime minister Tony Abbott from a blue-ribbon Liberal electorate in 2019.
Part of her success can be traced to the constant presence of her brand, which she achieved by turning everyday objects used by her Northern Beaches supporters into merchandise.
Teal swimming caps, earrings and umbrellas all feature in her store, while visors were recently added after some older female voters said they wanted a hat that wouldn't upset their hair.
As a result, merch wasn't something worn only by corflute-wielding volunteers, but by ordinary people going for a dip or getting a coffee.
"It's a lot more subtle and it's really embedded in the community, which is so much more powerful than a paid person handing out flyers about something they don't know," she said.
Her merchandise is also a way to build volunteer relationships, and her new logo - which features a leaf of pink on the dot of Zali's "i" - pays homage to neighbouring crossbencher Kylea Tink after her North Sydney electorate was dissolved in a redistribution that pushed members of her team to the Warringah effort.
"I know it's not huge, but they love it and I love that they know that we're recognising them," Ms Steggall said.
Messaging on everyday items isn't an entirely new concept.
Before the proliferation of lighters, politicians like Australia's 10th prime minister Joseph Lyons put their faces on matchbooks.
Many also tried to get their brands in front of Australians by following technological changes and putting their messages on popular mediums.
In the same way Mr Albanese or Opposition Leader Peter Dutton have posted to short-form video platform TikTok, ahead of the 1940 election, Country Party leader Archie Cameron put his face on cinema slides that would flash on theatre screens for 30 seconds.
During the heyday of the graphic novel, Labor also published their economic message in a comic book, which included vibrant illustrations of former prime minister John Curtin to play on his popularity.
This was not a common way to promote a politician and a response comic book was released soon afterwards alerting voters to the "dangers" of socialism.
Campaign materials have since become more uniform as candidates have aligned with the design languages of their parties.
The Greens, which were born out of the environmental movement around Tasmania's Franklin Dam, have continued to use the triangle iconography first associated with that protest - though its newer merchandise tends to focus more on its policies rather than the party.
The Liberals have yet to unveil their 2025 collection, but the party has historically played it safe with dark blue shirts or polos and a white logo accent.
Getting an early start on the merchandise competition has proved fruitful for Labor.
"The sports socks have been extremely popular already and we expect the demand to continue to grow on all products in the lead up to the election," a spokesperson said.
