Bank Of America Clear Bag Policy

So, you’re heading to a concert or a big game at Bank of America Stadium, and you’ve packed your bag with snacks, a jacket, and—oh, the horror—a “regular” purse. Say goodbye to that bag, my friend. The Bank of America Clear Bag Policy is here, and it’s basically the fashion police for your shoulder strap.

What’s the Big Deal?

The rule is simple: if your bag is bigger than 4.5 x 6.5 inches, it’s not allowed. That’s about the size of a small sandwich bag, or a very ambitious clutch.

Think of it as the stadium’s way of saying, “We love you, but we don’t trust your bag to hide anything weird.” Surprising fact: this policy actually started after the 2013 Boston Marathon bombing, so it’s less about being a party pooper and more about keeping you alive while you eat a hot dog.

What You Can Bring (and What You Can’t)

You can bring a clear plastic bag that’s no bigger than 12 x 6 x 12 inches. That’s the size of a toddler’s backpack, but transparent—so everyone can see your secret stash of trail mix and Tums.

Clutch purses are allowed if they’re tiny, like a wristlet the size of a passport. But don’t try to hide a phone in your bra—security will know, and they will judge you silently.

Left your clear bag at home? No worries—you can buy one at the stadium for about $10. It’s like the stadium’s version of a souvenir, except it comes with a side of mild humiliation.

The Funny Part

Here’s where it gets weird: you’ll see grown adults frantically shoving lip gloss into their pockets like they’re smuggling diamonds. I once saw a woman try to pass a fanny pack as “waist jewelry.” Security did not buy it.

Oh, and if you think you’re clever by wearing a clear plastic rain poncho and calling it a “bag,” no. The policy applies to anything that can hold stuff—even your jumbo-sized water bottle might get the side-eye.

Bank of America Stadium Bag Policy: Permitted and Prohibited Items

Surprising fact: Bank of America Stadium is one of the most lenient venues in the NFL. Some stadiums ban bags entirely. So be grateful—you only have to look like a walking Ziploc container.

How to Survive (and Thrive)

First, buy a clear bag online before you go. It costs less than a beer at the game, and you won’t be that person holding a Tupperware container full of tissues. “Are you my grandmother?” the security guard will ask.

Second, practice your “proud clear bag” walk. Hold it high! Show the world you have nothing to hide except that half-eaten granola bar from 2019.

Third, remember: this is temporary. After the game, you can go back to your giant tote bag of chaos. But for three hours, you’re part of the transparency club—and we’re all in this awkward, plastic-y thing together.

So pack light, laugh at your own expense, and enjoy the show. The policy isn’t going anywhere—but your dignity might. You’ve been warned.