Timberland believed, for some reason
or another, that they
didn't sell boots in the hood.
But the kids were buying Timberlands
the same way they were
buying Jordans. The
Timberland company's
classic, yellow boot is cemented
in the memories of hip-hop
fans and outdoorsmen alike.
While Timberland's profits increased
dramatically at the
height of its popularity in the
'90s, the brand seemed to
struggle with just how big
of an impact the hip-hop
community had on
its bottom line.
You know, it started to get
really popular in the streets
of New York and all up
and down the East Coast.
Listen, I would wear Timberland's
with a bathing suit,
literally. And I'm not joking.
Here's how the Timberland boot
became a hip-hop icon.
This is Suddenly Obsessed.
The Abington Shoe Company was
founded in 1933, supplying
unbranded shoes to distributors
across the U.S..
In 1973, the company decided
to create a waterproof,
nubuck leather boot that could
withstand the harsh New
England elements. They called
it the Timberland boot.
It was for people who worked
in factories or construction in
New England, and that was
their self-image and that's who
they were selling to. The
Timberland boot became so
popular, that in 1978, the
Abington Shoe Company was
renamed the
Timberland Company.
And for reasons unknown to the
brand at the time, the
appeal of the Timberland boot
reached far beyond hardhat
workers and outdoorsman.
In 1980, the Timberland boot
made its international debut in
Italy. When Italian tourists
visit New York, they
buy shoes. Never mind the
elegant, premium leather shoes
made in their own country.
They want the rugged,
outdoor American look.
By the mid 1980s,
The New York Times reported
that teenagers were robbing
people for their Timberlands
in Italy's fashion capital,
Milan. Italian flight attendants
were reportedly buying up
to 50 pairs of Timberland boots
on trips to the U.S.
to sell for double
the price in Italy.
The embrace of Timberland is a
high-end, made in the United
States brand catapulted the
yellow boot to a
once-inconceivable status.
By 1993, Timberland was the
top selling boot in Italy.
Think about that. In the
late '80s, Timberland opened a
U.S. flagship store on Madison Avenue
in New York City, and
almost immediately the iconic
yellow boot started popping
up in New York neighborhoods
like Harlem, Brooklyn and the
Bronx. With its new status
as a fashion must-have,
Americans on the cutting edge
of style now coveted
Timberland as a
prestigious brand.
They really came from the
initial people in the neighborhood
who probably, unfortunately, were
probably hustlers in some
sense. They had enough money to
go uptown or downtown and
look at the
more prestigious brands.
The legend goes that hustlers
liked the boot because they
were incredibly well-made and able
to withstand long nights
in harsh weather conditions.
I had stories from people who
grew up in, let's say, the
'80s in Harlem and would talk
about how, "Yeah, the thing
to do was to go to
Midtown (because there were no
Timberland stores in Harlem)," and
go to these stores that
were just not designed for
that consumer at all.
But they didn't
care about that.
They were interested in the
quality and the sort of
signifier value in the context
that they were in.
And it sort of transferred from
there into a broader style
thing that kind of
came up with hip-hop.
In the early '90s, New
York hip-hop artists adopted the
Timberland style
wholeheartedly.
I think when kids wanted
to associate with specific brands,
they had to first see it
on somebody that they valued.
In '94, Queens-born rapper Nas dropped
a line in one of his
top singles "The World Is
Yours," where he pays homage
saying, "Suede Timbs on my
feet makes my cipher complete."
In '95, rap duo Mobb Deep
released their most iconic album,
'The Infamous,' with a cover
image of Havok wearing Timbs.
And in'96, Biggie
Smalls frequently celebrated
Timbs in his style and
music, dropping the famous line,
"Timbs for my hooligans in
Brooklyn." Other iconic rappers
like Wu-Tang Clan and DMX
were also seen rocking the
classic, yellow boot.
But Busta Rhymes took
it to another level.
He would customize his Timbs
for major red carpet events.
Between 1991 and 2000,
Timberland's sales skyrocketed.
Gross profits grew from roughly
$80 million to over $500
million. That same year,
the company reported record
revenue topping one
billion dollars.
But Timberland's growth was
not without controversy.
Hip-hop was still a new concept
in the early '90s, and
some brands like Timberland didn't
seem to comprehend the
genre's influence or
staying power.
Timberland was focusing on servicing
a market with the
highest quality boot in the
world, but if you're selling
the highest quality boot in the
world, then how often do
you need to buy a new
boot if you're a construction worker?
But the kids now are buying
Timberland, and I'm buying two
or maybe one new pair a
month because of the fashion sense,
and you called me
a drug dealer.
In 1992, marketers
across the U.S.
were following Bill Clinton's
campaign calls for racial
harmony after the brutal beating
of Rodney King and the
riots that followed.
The following year, Timberland created
its "Give Racism the
Boot" campaign, which the
company ran internationally.
At the time, then-Executive
Vice President Jeff Swartz
said, "This is not
about selling boots.
It's about making a strong
statement." But in November of
1993, Swartz gave an infamous
interview to The New York
Times that would test the limits
of all of the goodwill
Timberland had built up with
the Black community, which now
represented a sizable portion
of its customer base.
The phrases were something like
"Well, the consumers money
spends good. But, you know,
we're still a brand for
hardworking people." It seems
Swartz didn't quite
comprehend how important Timberland had
become to the Black
community when he said, "If you
hear that hip-hop kids are
wearing Timberland boots...that's coin
in current dollars.
But how in the
world is that sustainable?"
Which obviously was
not well-received.
And part of this was that
it was an explanation for why
Timberland was not advertising
in magazines like Vibe.
There was open sort of complaint
and talk about we should
boycott Timberland and
things like this.
I'm not throwing away seven
years at Timberland into my
closet. Are you kidding me?
Especially if I was a guy or
girl from the hood, and I've
invested damn near 50%
of my entire salary.
What am I going to
do? Following the interview, Swartz
spoke openly about the
criticism Timberland faced, saying
their stock price took a
hit as a result.
Customers began asking, "Why
Timberland doesn't want to
sell to Black people?" But
the conversation was bigger than
that. In the '90s, marketers
were just starting to pay
attention to Black spending
power in the U.S.
As of 1993, studies showed
that Black Americans spent 50%
more on shoes and four
percent more on clothing than
non-Blacks. For a group
that was historically marginalized,
this was a significant shift.
With Blacks accounting for more
and more consumer spending,
this presented a challenge for
brands like Timberland, who
were bound by traditional ideas
of wealth and influence.
But young, Black entrepreneurs
saw Timberland's misstep as
a major opportunity.
When you said that we don't
sell our boots to drug dealers,
a little young man at Red
Lobster who was working extremely
hard, I felt pissed off.
I said, "Who's ever going to
love and value the people that
they make and sell their boots to?"
So I went home and came
up with a brand, FUBU, "For Us,
By Us." A lot of people
would interpret it only as a
color, but I wasn't going to
be a bigot the same
way that Timberland was.
It was about a culture, those
who loved and valued hip-hop.
Timberland learned that when young,
Black consumers start a
trend, affluent suburbanites were likely
to follow them, a
pattern that still
exists today.
Over time, Timberland's reaction,
let's say, evolved.
In fact, it went 180 degrees.
Timberland came to realize this
was not a fad.
It was not a problem.
It was an opportunity, and
it was the future.
Timberland had a long-standing
history of giving back.
But in 1999, Timberland really
put their money where their
boots were. The brand designed
a limited edition red boot
in partnership with City Year, which
was meant to appeal to
the Black consumers' appetites
for customization while
embodying Timberland's socially
conscious ethos.
In 2007, the company launched
the Borough's Project, which
called on designers from New
York City's five boroughs to
design custom Timbs.
Basically, they started following
that consumer, and that
was when they started designing
products such as pink work
boots that had no relevance
to its supposed core
demographic of the factory
worker or the outdoor
construction worker and had 100%
relevance to the street
fashion person, who by that
point wasn't just the
"urban consumer", the hip hop
star, and things like that.
It was a very wide spread.
So it had leached out into
the suburbs because it was just
the bomb to have to have Timbs
as they came to be called.
After seeing major spikes in
profits throughout the '90s
and early 2000s,
Timberland's growth fell stagnant
between 2005 and 2010.
Following its multigenerational
expansion under the
direction of the Swartz family,
in 2011 Timberland was sold
for $2.3 billion dollars to
VF Corp., a fashion
conglomerate that owns brands like
The North Face and Vans.
It seems VF Corp.
is embracing the different
types of Timberland consumers
from the outdoor enthusiasts
to its trendy clientele.
While Timberland has been
working on its sustainability
efforts, it has also
created fashion-forward styles like
the four-inch heeled boot.
And the brand hearkened back to
the '90s by launching a
special legends collection with
one of its early,
unofficial hip-hop
ambassadors, NAS.
And in recent years, the
brand leaned into hype culture,
creating collectors boot drops with
brands like Supreme and
Off-White. While the Timberland company
might not see an
expansion like it did in the
early '90s, they succeeded in
retaining a diverse and
loyal consumer base.
Timberland does not have the same
kind of edge that it had
in 2000, 2005.
But that's kind of inevitable.
So brands have to weather the
storm of crossing over from
being the new thing to being
the old thing, and if
you can be the old thing
and still be acceptable, you're
not in a bad position.
