Earlier this month Brendan Carr, the chair of the Federal Communications Commission, decided to swap out his usual American flag lapel pin. Instead of the stars and stripes, he pinned a gold medallion in the shape of President Donald Trump’s profile, about the size of a quarter, to his blue suit and wore it to meet with a Georgia congressman, Buddy Carter, and later to a meeting at the Justice Department. He then memorialized the meetings on the social platform X.
The pin was noticed by Benny Johnson, a conservative YouTuber, who posted a shot of it on X along with the line “Do you even understand the level of fit that Brendan Carr has?” to his 3.6 million followers. Carr reposted it. And so a mini social media moment was born.
Rumors flew across the internet that Trump was requiring members of his administration to wear the pins. “Fake news” wrote Steven Cheung, the White House communications director, in an email a few days later. Carr has not been seen wearing the pin since.
Yet the mere fact that someone who worked for Trump thought it might be a good idea to display his boss’s likeness on his lapel, no matter how briefly, is notable.
Especially because it is not the only Trump likeness popping up in the administration. Trump’s face also graces an example of what he has called the Trump “Gold Card”: a mock-up of the proposed green card for those willing to pay $5 million, which Trump unveiled the same day Carr modeled his Trump lapel pin and which Commerce Secretary Howard Lutnick said should come into effect in the next week or so.
“It’s a real departure from the norm, especially because of the precedents,” said Richard Thompson Ford, a professor at Stanford Law School and the author of “Dress Codes: How the Laws of Fashion Made History.” “To the extent such symbolism matters, it portends a change. A shift from the veneration of the rule of law, to the veneration of an individual.”
When asked why Carr wore the pin, and where he got it, a spokesperson for the FCC emailed back, “Chairman Carr has focused on delivering great results for the American people.” Then he added, “The New York Times has chosen to focus on … lapel pins.”
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However, lapel pins of all kinds, whether the flag pin, the Légion d’Honneur in France, the poppy in Britain or the multiple color-coded ribbons for different causes, have long been repositories of meaning.
They sit at the knotty place where history, the culture of consumption and the power of merch meet.
A Brief History of the Lapel Pin
Lapel pins have long been beloved tools across the political spectrum. At the 2024 State of the Union address, Democrats wore lapel pins to show their support of abortion rights, to protest gun violence and police violence, or to support Ukraine, while Republican lawmakers sported pins paying homage to Laken Riley, the college student who was killed by a migrant.
Because they are worn close to the heart, and on view for anyone to see, they have become de facto signs of value systems and allegiances. Not to mention “a way to distinguish between the in group and the out group,” said Joshua Arthurs, an associate professor of history and museum studies at the University of Toronto.
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The pins have their roots in military culture, with its practice of wearing the insignia of rank and status on the front of the chest. In Benito Mussolini’s Italy, for example, Arthurs said a wide variety of lapel pins was often on display, including “1919 pins” that differentiated original members of the fascist party from those who joined later, and who often wore pins with elaborate party insignia.
But they became particularly potent in China under Mao Zedong, where wearing a lapel pin in the form of Mao’s profile became a widespread sign of commitment.
“The person becomes the embodiment of the cause,” said Karl Gerth, a professor of Chinese Studies and history at the University of California, San Diego, and the author of “Unending Capitalism: How Consumerism Negated China’s Communist Revolution.” The implication being, he said, that loyalty to the state is loyalty to the person, or loyalty to the person is loyalty to the state.
Such prominent symbols, Arthurs said, suggest familiar displays of patriotism shifting into something like a “secular religion.” One built around a charismatic figure, the power of ritual and iconography. Or stuff. “Clothing becomes very important,” Arthurs said, as “a way to show you are a true believer” and a member of the tribe, whether or not it is officially required. This is part of the allure of the MAGA hat — and why Trump could sell off swatches of his mug shot suit like souvenirs.
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What’s in a Face?
Trump lapel pins are not particularly hard to get. One such gold-plated style is currently available on the official Trump 2024 store for $19.95, while another is on Amazon for $6.99; more than 300 of those pins have been sold in the past month, according to the e-commerce site.
It’s not hard to imagine why such a pin may seem attractive for anyone who has taken note of the amount of time Trump spends discussing appearance, and his dislike of what he considers improper dress (see his scolding of Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy for not wearing a suit for his Oval Office meeting). The president obviously both pays attention to and cares what those around him wear.
Indeed, it does not seem like a coincidence that so many Republican officials, including Vice President JD Vance, Secretary of State Marco Rubio and House Speaker Mike Johnson, have adopted the de facto Trump uniform of blue suit, white shirt and red tie.
It is also very clear that Trump loves gold (see the redecoration of the Oval Office). That he is concerned with his own likeness, as his recent complaints over a portrait that he believed was unflattering and that was briefly hung in the Colorado Capitol demonstrated. And that he values loyalty. What better way to show fealty than to wear a gold pin of his likeness?
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He does not have to actually instruct people to do so. They can figure it out all on their own. It’s no different from young Bernie Sanders supporters getting tattoos of his face (as some proudly did after the 2016 campaign), or Barack Obama fans buying T-shirts with Shepard Fairey’s Obama portrait on the chest — unless it becomes something more ubiquitous and bureaucratic. Which is where the gold card comes in.
While presidents such as George Washington, Thomas Jefferson and Abraham Lincoln all have their likeness on the U.S. currency, that happened after they were either dead or at least out of office; in 1866, Congress passed a law that prohibited using the “portrait or likeness of any living person” on legal tender. To have a leader put his face on an official instrument when the person is actually in power is, like the lapel pin, Ford said, “a bad sign.”
“When Caesar put his face on a coin, it was a personal, rather than a civic, assertion of power,” Ford said. It was also when Rome moved from republic to empire.
That is why Carr’s pin matters. “It’s a reflection,” Ford said, “of the mindset of someone working in the administration.” When that person is also the person charged with overseeing communications laws and regulations, it seems especially — well, pointed.
