T&S was recently featured in an article by Golf Bizz Review. Click here for the original article or read on below.
ORLANDO. There is a dissonance in modern golf that no one talks about, but everyone feels.
Walk through the bag drop area of any premier private club in America—whether it’s in the Hamptons, Monterey, or Palm Beach—and look closely at the equipment. You will see masterpieces of engineering and art. You will see sets of Japanese forged irons that cost upwards of $4,000, crafted with the same metallurgy used in samurai swords. You will see milled putters, likely from Scotty Cameron or Bettinardi, that cost $800 and are treated with the reverence of religious artifacts. You will see hand-stitched leather headcovers and exotic shafts.
But then, look at the item that hangs from the zippers of these bags. Look at the bag tag. Look at the member-guest charm. Look at the divot tool.
More often than not, it is a piece of stamped zinc alloy, coated in a thin layer of epoxy, churned out by the thousands in a nameless factory in Guangzhou. It is lightweight. It feels temporary. It is, for lack of a better word, “merchandise.”
In a game obsessed with tradition, permanence, and legacy, the objects we use to commemorate our achievements have become disposable.
Meanwhile, 9,000 miles away, the medals and insignia worn by some of the most decorated people on the planet are being produced in a very different environment. T&S Medals and Insignia has worked with the same factory in Singapore since day one of the business. Some members of the team there have been with them for 35 and even 40 years. For CEO Chris Wilkins, that continuity is not a footnote; it is part of the story, a living example of how family and loyalty underpin the brand’s standards.
From their base in Australia, this family-owned firm operates in a rarefied air that few manufacturers ever reach. They are not a “promo products” company. They are the custodians of a dying art form. And after four decades of crafting official insignia for Royalty, Prime Ministers, and Presidents, they are turning their attention to the world of elite golf.
The premise they are bringing to the PGA Show in Orlando is simple, yet confronting for many General Managers: if your members demand the best in their hands when they swing, why are you putting anything less in their hands when they win?
The Kitchen Table and the Aussie Grit
To understand why T&S is different, you have to understand where they came from. This is not a company born in a venture capital boardroom with an exit strategy. It was born in 1985, on a kitchen table in Sydney.
Trevor and Sue Wilkins—the “T” and the “S”—started the business with little more than an idea and, as the family lore goes, “a healthy dash of Aussie grit.” Trevor had spent the 1970s working globally with Qantas Airways, seeing the world and developing an eye for quality. He noticed a gap in the Australian market: there were plenty of people making badges, but no one was making insignia.
There is a difference. A badge is an identifier; insignia is a symbol of honor.
They started small, crafting 50 badges for a local Catholic primary school. But unlike their competitors, they didn’t look for the cheapest way to fulfill the order. They looked for the right way. They obsessed over the weight of the metal, the clarity of the design, and the durability of the finish.
That obsession paid off. The reputation of “The T&S Way” began to spread—not through marketing campaigns, but through word of mouth among people who could tell the difference between a trinket and a treasure. The company grew from that kitchen table into a business with international reach, but the ethos remained completely unchanged, reinforced by the long-serving team in Singapore that has been producing their work from the very beginning.
It is a legacy that has now passed to the second generation. Chris Wilkins, now the CEO, grew up in this business. He didn’t just inherit a title; he inherited a responsibility.
“My parents built this on the willingness to back themselves and take a punt,” Chris says. “But the foundation was always quality. We never wanted to be the biggest. We just wanted to be the ones you called when it had to be perfect.”
The Medal Maker to Kings
It is easy for brands in the golf industry to use words like “premium” or “luxury.” Those words have been used so often they have lost their meaning. But T&S Medals possesses a credential that stops you in your tracks.
In the year 2000, a milestone occurred that changed the trajectory of the company forever. The Australian Honours Secretariat in Canberra was looking for a partner to produce the nation’s most prestigious awards. They needed a manufacturer capable of producing the Order of Australia—the highest recognition an Australian citizen can receive.
They didn’t choose a massive overseas conglomerate. They chose the Wilkins family’s business.
For over 20 years, T&S has held this trust. When you see a dignitary, a hero, or a leader receiving the Order of Australia, you are looking at T&S handiwork.
But the list goes further. The pedigree of their work has found its way into the hands of global icons.
They have crafted medals that have been presented to King Charles III.
They produced work for the late Prince Philip.
They have even manufactured awards received by former US President Bill Clinton.
“Think about the pressure of that,” says an industry insider familiar with their work. “If you make a mistake on a golf bag tag, a customer complains. If you make a mistake on a medal being pinned onto a King or a President, it’s a diplomatic incident. That level of scrutiny creates a culture of perfection that you simply cannot fake.”
This is the DNA that T&S is bringing to the golf industry. They are not trying to learn how to make quality products; they are simply applying their “Royal” standard to a new category.
The Lost Art of Enameling
In the age of 3D printing and laser etching, why does T&S insist on doing things the hard way?
The answer lies in a process called enameling.
If you look at most colorful golf accessories today, the color is usually applied using soft enamel or a printed sticker covered with an epoxy dome. It looks fine for a few months. But eventually, the epoxy yellows in the sun. The sticker peels. The soft enamel scratches. It lacks soul.
T&S specializes in the genuine article. True enameling is a discipline closer to jewelry making than to mass manufacturing. It involves fusing glass powder to metal at extremely high temperatures—often exceeding 800 degrees Celsius.
The process is unforgiving. The metal is stamped to create recesses. The enamel is applied by hand—literally, by artisans with steady hands and infinite patience—into those recesses. Then, it is fired in a kiln. The heat melts the powder, fusing it to the metal and creating a hard, glass-like surface.
But they don’t stop there. Once fired, the piece is ground down flat using stone or diamond abrasives until the metal lines and the enamel are perfectly flush. Then, it is polished to a mirror shine.
The result is an object that feels substantial. It is cool to the touch. The colors have a depth and vibrancy that paint cannot achieve. It is impervious to the sun. A T&S bag tag created today will look exactly the same in 50 years. It is an heirloom.
“Machines can’t replicate this,” Chris Wilkins explains. “You can’t automate the ‘feel.’ When you hold a piece of genuine hard enamel, your thumb knows the difference instantly. It feels like currency. It feels like value.”
The “Scotty Cameron” Standard
This brings us back to the golf course, and specifically, to the PGA Show in Orlando.
The golf industry is currently flooded with technology. Everyone is selling data, sensors, and simulation. But in the private club sector, there is a yearning for a return to the tactile, the beautiful, and the permanent.
Chris Wilkins and his team see a major opportunity to elevate the standards of the world’s most prestigious clubs. They are targeting the icons of the game—places like Riviera, Seminole, National Golf Links, and Monterey Peninsula.
The pitch is not based on price; it is based on logic.
“We look at it this way,” Wilkins says, referencing one of the most famous names in golf equipment. “If a member cherishes a milled Scotty Cameron putter for its craftsmanship—if they appreciate the way the steel has been worked, the weight of it, the finish—why would a club recognize their achievements with anything less?”
Imagine a Member-Guest tournament at a top-100 club. The entry fee might be $2,000 or $3,000. The memories made are priceless. Why, at the end of that event, are the participants handed a trophy or a money clip that feels like it came out of a bubblegum machine?
argues that the hardware should match the hardware in the bag.
If the member wins the Club Championship, the medal they receive should have the same gravitas as the Order of Australia.
If a guest receives a bag tag from a bucket-list course, that tag should be a heavy, polished piece of art that anchors the memory of the trip, not a piece of plastic that gets thrown in a drawer.
A Quiet Revolution in Orlando
In a few weeks, 30,000 golf industry professionals will descend on the Orange County Convention Center in Orlando. The aisles will be packed with the latest drivers, the newest apparel, and the flashiest gadgets.
But amidst the noise and the neon, in a booth occupied by an Australian family business with a decades-long production partnership in Singapore, a quiet revolution will be taking place.
T&S Medals isn’t launching an app. They aren’t promising to fix your slice. They are offering something far rarer in 2026: integrity.
They are betting that there are still people in the golf world who care about how things are made. They are betting that the Directors of Golf at the world’s finest clubs are tired of the disposable and are ready to return to the artisanal.
They are the medal makers to Kings. And now, they are ready to serve the game of kings.