Why Is It Called a Bunny Hug? The Irish Origin of a Winter Wardrobe Staple

In Ireland, where the wind cuts through streets like a sharp blade and rain isn’t just weather-it’s a daily companion-the hoodie isn’t just clothing. It’s survival. But here, it doesn’t go by that name. Walk into a Tesco in Cork, a Dunnes Stores in Galway, or a local market in Derry, and you’ll hear it called something else: a bunny hug. No one in Dublin or Donegal calls it a hoodie. Not really. Not in everyday talk. And if you’re new to the country, wondering why your Irish friend just asked if you packed your bunny hug, you’re not alone.

Where Did ‘Bunny Hug’ Even Come From?

The term ‘bunny hug’ isn’t some random whim. It’s a linguistic relic from the 1980s and 90s, when Canadian pop culture-especially through TV and music-began to seep into Irish life. Back then, Canadian teens wore hooded sweatshirts with kangaroo pockets, and they called them ‘bunny hugs’ because the hood and front pouch looked like a bunny hugging its body. The name stuck in Canada, and thanks to shared media with the UK and Ireland, it crossed the Atlantic.

But here’s the twist: while the UK mostly stuck with ‘hoodie’, Ireland took the Canadian term and made it its own. Why? Maybe because ‘hoodie’ sounded too American, too corporate. ‘Bunny hug’ felt softer, funnier, more human. It matched the Irish way of turning serious things into something light. When the weather turns nasty in Galway, you don’t say, ‘I need my technical outerwear.’ You say, ‘Grab my bunny hug-it’s lashing out there.’

It’s Not Just a Word-It’s a Ritual

In Ireland, the bunny hug isn’t just worn. It’s lived in. Think of the morning commute on the Luas in Dublin, the bus into Sligo, or the walk to school in Waterford. Everyone’s in one. The fabric? Usually a thick cotton blend, maybe from Primark’s winter range, or a slightly-too-big one bought at a charity shop in Limerick for €5. The colour? Always dark. Black, navy, charcoal. No neon. No logos. Unless it’s a local GAA club logo-then it’s sacred.

And the pocket? That’s not just for hands. It’s for your phone, your thermos of tea, your last packet of Tayto, your car keys, your half-eaten sandwich from lunch. The bunny hug pocket is a second brain. It holds what you need, when you need it, without a bag. You’ll see people in Cork, waiting for the bus in a downpour, standing with their hands buried deep in their bunny hug, eyes fixed on the road, as if the pocket is the only thing keeping them grounded.

Why Not Just Call It a Hoodie?

Language in Ireland isn’t about correctness-it’s about belonging. Calling it a ‘hoodie’ feels like you’re trying too hard to sound trendy, maybe even American. ‘Bunny hug’ signals you’re one of us. It’s the same reason people say ‘tayto’ instead of ‘crisps’, or ‘couch’ instead of ‘sofa’. It’s not about being different. It’s about being local.

Even the big Irish retailers know this. If you search for ‘hoodie’ on the Dunnes Stores website, you’ll get results. But if you search ‘bunny hug’, you’ll see the same items-with the word ‘bunny hug’ in the product description. It’s not a mistake. It’s strategy. They know the term sells. It resonates. A hoodie from the Irish brand Irish Wool Co. might be marketed as ‘a heavyweight bunny hug for Atlantic winds’-not ‘a premium zip-up hoodie’.

Seasonal Life in a Bunny Hug

Winter in Ireland doesn’t have snow-it has damp. The kind that gets into your bones. And that’s when the bunny hug becomes essential. You wear it to the pub in Kilkenny, to the cinema in Wexford, to the post office in Ennis. You wear it under your coat when it’s raining. You wear it over your shirt when it’s not quite cold enough for a jacket. You wear it while watching the football on TV in your living room in Clonmel.

Even in spring, when the sun peeks out for a few hours, you’ll still see people in bunny hugs. Because in Ireland, the weather doesn’t follow calendars. It follows its own rhythm. And if the wind picks up in the afternoon in Tralee, your bunny hug is your first line of defence.

The Bunny Hug in Irish Pop Culture

You’ll spot it in Irish films and TV shows. In Normal People, Connell wears a dark grey bunny hug in the cold scenes at Trinity. In Love/Hate, characters pull them on after a night out in Dublin’s north inner city. Even in music videos-think Hozier or Fontaines D.C.-you’ll see the silhouette of a bunny hug against a grey sky, a quiet symbol of resilience.

And then there’s the annual Galway International Oyster Festival. Locals show up in bunny hugs under their raincoats, waiting for the oyster shucking contest. Tourists ask why everyone’s dressed like they’re going hiking. The answer? It’s not a fashion choice. It’s a climate necessity.

What If You’re From Outside Ireland?

If you’ve moved here from London, Sydney, or New York, you might find yourself confused. You bought a hoodie. You’re ready. But then your flatmate says, ‘Did you bring your bunny hug?’ You panic. Did you get the wrong thing?

No. You didn’t. A hoodie is a bunny hug. They’re the same garment. But if you want to blend in, start using the word. Say it out loud. ‘I need my bunny hug before I head to the shop.’ You’ll notice people smile. Not because it’s funny. Because you’re trying. And in Ireland, trying to understand the local way-even the small things-is deeply respected.

Where to Buy a Real Irish Bunny Hug

You don’t need to spend €80 on a designer version. The best bunny hugs in Ireland come from places where practicality beats branding:

• Primark - Their winter range has thick, zip-up bunny hugs for under €15. Black, navy, grey. Always.
• Dunnes Stores - Look for the ‘Weatherwise’ range. These are wind-resistant and slightly longer in the arms-perfect for Irish proportions.
• Charity Shops - In Belfast, Limerick, or Waterford, you’ll find vintage bunny hugs with faded logos. Some have GAA patches. Those are gold.
• Irish Wool Co. - For the serious cold, their merino-blend bunny hugs are made in County Wicklow. They cost €65, but they last a decade.

And if you’re shopping online? Avoid international brands that call it a ‘hoodie’. Search ‘bunny hug Ireland’-you’ll get local sellers who know what you mean.

Is ‘Bunny Hug’ Used Everywhere in Ireland?

Mostly, yes. But there are exceptions. In parts of rural Donegal or among older generations, you might hear ‘hoodie’ more often. In cities, ‘bunny hug’ dominates. In Cork, it’s almost universal. In Dublin, it’s the norm among under-40s. The term is alive, evolving, and still growing.

There’s even a meme going around: ‘If you say hoodie in Galway, you get asked if you’re from the UK.’ It’s not rude. It’s just how things are.

Why This Matters

Language is identity. In a country that’s seen waves of change-colonial rule, emigration, economic booms and busts-the way we talk about everyday things becomes a quiet act of belonging. Calling your hoodie a bunny hug isn’t silly. It’s a small, stubborn way of saying: I’m here. I’m Irish. I know how to survive the weather. And I’m not going to pretend I’m from somewhere else.

So next time you’re standing in the rain outside a Tesco in Louth, pulling your bunny hug tighter, know this: you’re not just wearing a piece of clothing. You’re wearing a story.