College merchandise has long suffered from a peculiar stagnation. Students walk into bookstores expecting something to match the pride they feel, but all they get are the same hoodies, the same shirts, the same dead-eyed Champion sweatshirts or Gildan tees slapped with a recycled logo. The palette rarely strays from black, white, gray, or maybe a muted navy if someone’s feeling adventurous. There’s no style, no personality, no connection to the real lives of students wearing them. And the price tag? Often steep enough to sting, with none of the quality to justify it. According to a Texas State University study, over 90% of students expressed a desire for more modern, fashion-forward campus apparel that better aligns with how they actually live, study, and socialize. What sits on bookstore shelves often feels like it was made for an idea of a student, not the real ones navigating college life today (Texas State).
Tyler Shooshani, the Founder of Maplehouse, saw this. Saw it clearly, actually, through a simple conversation with his younger sister. She got into the University of Michigan and called him, full of energy, full of excitement, and asked him, “Where do I get the merch?” His answer was obvious. “The bookstore,” he said. Her reply came sharp: “The bookstore is just super boring.” That line stuck. So did the reality behind it. The school pride remained, but the way students wanted to express it had evolved. The apparel hadn’t kept up. University bookstores are often cluttered, filled with promotional items, and lacking a cohesive visual identity (Sciencedirect).
Shooshani had already built a network through Inked Sports, his previous company. That venture connected underserved college athletes with brands. He wasn’t a stranger to campus culture. Nor was he new to listening closely. After hearing the same complaint echoed by student after student, he did the work. Interviews with over 100 students across 60 universities painted a very clear picture. “Ninety-eight percent of them said it absolutely sucks,” said Shooshani. “They hate it. It’s been the same thing since they graduated.” Merchandise in general is seen as something that is being handed down from the university with no real intent beyond selling merchandise (ERIC).
That’s where Maplehouse began. A response. A rebellion. A refocus. Not on gameday gear. Not on screaming logos. On the student walking to class, lounging on a Sunday, heading out for a casual dinner, or repping their alma mater at brunch. Shooshani calls it “quiet, comfort luxury licensed college apparel for the off-duty college student.” That phrase alone reveals a shift. It’s not a hoodie you buy to cheer at a football game. It’s one you wear on a flight back to campus or while grading papers in a grad seminar.
Luxury, as defined by Shooshani, lives in the details. “Luxury consists of high-quality American-grown cotton and unique finishing techniques.” It’s not marketing fluff. It’s visible. You can see the grain in the product shots. You can spot the embroidery’s detail and precision. He obsesses over that. Every stitch, every ink speck.
To win attention, Maplehouse had to stop thinking like a merch company. Shooshani started thinking like a fashion label. That’s where Maplehouse leans in hardest. The photo shoots happen in LA homes, not on a patch of grass behind a dorm. Models aren’t students holding pom-poms. They’re agency-signed. The visual identity matches the ambition.
“We don’t want to be seen as a company selling merchandise,” said Shooshani. “We’re a fashion company in the college apparel space.”
The distinction matters. It matters to licensing directors too. Shooshani reached out to dozens, pitching something that had never really existed before. Many hesitated. Not because they didn’t believe in the vision, but because it was new. Most didn’t want to be the first. But then Yale called two days after his email. They were in. Two-year deal, no hesitation. That green light gave Maplehouse proof of concept. The brand launched in October and has already landed licensing partnerships with Southern Methodist University, Wake Forest, Indiana, and more in development.
When choosing partners, Shooshani searches for schools with heritage. History. But he also needs room to interpret that history. He needs licensing guidelines that bend. The designs don’t regurgitate logos. They reimagine archives. He spends hours sifting through yearbooks from the 1890s to the 1970s. “There’s one in particular where we saw this cowboy in the desert, and the school is in the clouds. It’s the most beautiful thing ever,” describing an upcoming SMU piece.
Each drop isn’t mass-produced. It’s a small batch, considered. There’s a reason for that. “We make it limited. So once it’s done, it’s done,” Shooshani said. “We might re-release some things if they do well.” Scarcity plays a role in shaping desire, but so does design itself. The Yale campus chainstitch hoodie performed beyond expectations. Not because it shouted but because it whispered class. It added a fresh embroidery technique that set it apart from every other university sweatshirt in the drawer.
Shooshani knows the licensing world. He knows how universities guard their marks, how reluctant they can be with reinterpretation. But he also knows that once a school sees what Maplehouse delivers, the perception shifts. Trust builds. Value becomes clear. “Once you build that moat,” he explained, “they say, to other brands, we already have Maplehouse.” The brand isn’t chasing flash-in-the-pan hype. It wants longevity. Shooshani envisions each university getting a new drop every two years. A freshman sees the 2025 line. By the time they graduate, they’re shopping the 2027 line. Apparel that grows with the student, evolves with their identity. It’s not about legacy alone. It’s about living inside the moment.
The scale is clear in his mind. Not infinite, but focused. Shooshani is following that path with Maplehouse, and he’s doing it with a blend of hustle, humility, and precision. “We’re really going to change something for the better,” he said. And if the product, positioning, and early traction are any indication, he’s not wrong.
