Moomin merchandise and fashion: 80 years of ultra-savvy marketing that taps into childhood nostalgia

On a visit to the British Library in London to research this piece, I was preceded by a woman with a lilac-coloured tote featuring a mischievous-looking girl with a severe top knot and black dress. I instantly recognised the distinctive outline of Tove Jansson’s Little My, one of the many brilliant characters of the Moominverse.

A committed researcher, I summoned up the courage to ask about the bag and the woman carrying it. Anna – visiting the library to work on her fairy tale novel – immediately told all about her hold-all. About how she felt a connection with “fiery and independent” Little My specifically and Moomins generally. About how they took her back to her Swedish childhood, when she would hand-knit the distinctive rotund creatures. I had clearly hit the jackpot with Anna – Moomin owner, wearer and maker, all in one.

Anna had bought the bag in Sweden, but you don’t have to go to the Scandinavian birthplace of the Moomins to buy into their world. Anna could have gone to the Moomin emporium 30 minutes’ walk away in Covent Garden, or just shopped online.

Today’s Moomin empire is vast and varied. The Moomins is a brand worth multi-millions, with 800 licencees worldwide. This 80th anniversary year will see capsule collections galore from the likes of Comme des Garçons, Acne Studios and Polarn O. Pyret.

The products span interior décor, clothing and accessories, ceramics and much, much more. Driven in part by the extension into media that includes video games and TV, Moomins can be found on everything from planes to pencils. It’s very possible to eat, sleep, wear, play Moomin – to immerse yourself entirely in the Moomin world.

It’s all very typical of the 21st-century media and entertainment asset landscape. And yet, as Moomin aficionados know full well, none of it is new. There has been Moomin merch for as long as there have been Moomins.

Their creator Tove Jansson took an active role in the development of the Moomin industry. Part of her training had been in illustrations for advertising and when the books and comic strips took off, she herself provided images for a drinks manufacturer selling themed whortleberry juice and other libations. Jansson also designed a board game and supported and oversaw the development of several products and lines, taking immense care over their quality and details.

The scale of the operation soon became overwhelming and Jansson became increasingly frustrated and resentful of the demands on her creative time. One of her characters, Snufkin, is bemused by why people “liked to have things” (Finn Family Moomintroll, 1948) and the books have a certain anti-consumerist bent. From this perspective, the vast Moomin industry today goes against the spirit of the works.

And yet. The same book in which Snufkin spoke this way is also a book (whose Finnish original title is The Hobgoblin’s Hat) full to the brim with … things. And those things are invested with immense fascination and power. As the Snork character points out “a top hat is always somewhat extraordinary, of course”.

Jansson herself had a strong impulse to work with others to extend and flesh out her creations, releasing them from the confines of the books. She was actively involved in early stage adaptations, crafting sets and costumes, and later became absorbed in the long-term creation of a Moominhouse diorama (and series of associated tableaux) with partner Tuulikki Pietilä and physician friend Pentti Eistola.

Making her creations tangible and tactile was clearly a huge draw for this sculptor’s daughter. One of the most striking features of the Moomins on paper is their smooth rotundity – they’re almost begging to be made into three dimensions.

So much for the creator. But what of Moomin consumers? People around the world have clearly long wanted to feel closer to the Moomin world, and to buy into it. But why? The reasons are both aesthetic and affective. As for the Swedish-born writer I encountered at the British Library, the Moomins are often keyed into the nostalgia and innocence of childhood. And, as with Anna’s sense of kinship with Little My, people often feel an instinctive affiliation with one or more of the Moomin’s vast and varied cast.

The books also encapsulate and convey a whole host of associations (or “values” in brand speak) which people identify with, want to share and display. Some of these are relatively banal (though fundamental) and apparent elsewhere – things like friendship, warmth, family and acceptance.

But there are also features quite specific to Moomins and to Jansson herself: a relish of life and sensuous experience, gender fluidity, space for both light and dark, for wanderlust and the joy of cocooning at home. All of this is conveyed in words and images of exceptional quality and distinction.

The whimsy is delivered with distinctive Scandinavian style and flair: a clean, pared-back aesthetic and sharp lines accompanied by a rich and bold colour palette. Who wouldn’t want to wear a hand-painted silk AALTO dress by Finnish designer Tuomas Merikoski that transposes the lush greens of one of the later Moomin books, The Dangerous Journey?

Eight decades after their first publication, Moomins continue to be highly covetable and to catalyse creativity. As with Anna’s Little My tote, they are set to accompany and assist many more generations of writers and creatives in their imaginative endeavours.

This article first appeared in 'The Conversation' on 19 May 2025