At the Milan Olympics, the real competition is collecting gadgets

During the Milan Olympics, hundreds of people have been lining up outside Base Milano since the first light of dawn; around 1,700 visitors enter Villa Necchi Campiglio — home to Casa Corea — every day, while another 1,500 form an exceptionally long line in Parco Sempione. None of them are there for the sport. What appears to be drawing thousands of people into the urban choreography of the Games is, in fact, the gadgets. On the official Games website, the edition’s visual identity unfolds across pins, apparel, accessories, toys and other collectibles. Alongside the classic five-ring logo are the mascots Milo and Tina and designs by globally renowned Milan-based illustrator Olimpia Zagnoli: items aligned with Olympic tradition yet updated with a fully contemporary aesthetic.

But more than the official merchandising, it is the temporary installations, pop-ups and branded stands scattered across the city — and the long queues now typical of major events — that have turned Milan into a collector’s paradise. The resulting frenzy even surpasses the obsessions seen during Design Week… perhaps the only recent comparison is the Labubu craze. The hottest items are the neighborhood-themed pins: badges created through a collaboration between YesMilano and Fondazione Milano Cortina 2026, depicting the city’s postcard districts — from the Navigli to Brera — in a stylized, almost souvenir-like graphic language. Distribution is limited (around 250 pieces per day) and can require hours of waiting, fueling a full-blown urban treasure hunt.

Esselunga and Coca-Cola have also designed their own Olympic-themed merchandise, distributed at their respective temporary venues: Casa Esselunga in the Cortile delle Armi at Castello Sforzesco and The Peak by Coca-Cola in Piazza del Cannone, just steps from Parco Sempione. After queues that can stretch to an hour and a half, visitors may receive a keychain reproducing Esselunga’s cult focaccina meme or a personalized can featuring their own face. Samsung, meanwhile, has designed five collectible pins, distributed free of charge at selected MediaWorld stores.

And then — as with any self-respecting Milan mega-event — there are the tote bags. At Airbnb’s experiential installation, which recreates alpine refuges and après-ski rituals, visitors can customize their bags with archival materials and iconic moments from past Games, like wearable postage stamps. A giant Labubu has also been touring the city: on February 7 it appeared at the inauguration of the ISU Home of Skating and even took home a (fake) medal.

The queue most reminiscent of Fuorisalone, however, can be found at the Uniqlo pop-up just outside Stazione Centrale. Here visitors can purchase a thermal T-shirt for about €20 along with a hand warmer. The hype recalls the Etro stool during Design Week 2025: on resale platforms, that single gadget reached prices of up to €700.

As the city now produces more opportunities for waiting than for watching, the Olympic spectator increasingly behaves like a collector rather than a fan. Even the official Olympic uniforms — designed by Salomon for the Games’ volunteers — have become resellable merchandise circulating on eBay and Vinted. The same fate is befalling the Swatch Chasing Peaks watch, one of two models created by the Swiss brand to celebrate the Winter Games, as well as the official illustrated posters, from Olimpia Zagnoli to Pierpaolo Rovero.

In short, a dense micro-economy is taking shape around the Olympics — built on queues, small objects and constant resale. It is an ecosystem that may reveal more about the city than the competitions themselves, and for that reason, whether we like it or not, it deserves close attention.