Is Dr. Martens a fashion victim?

Is Dr. Martens a fashion victim?

Just three years after Dr. Martens’ $5 billion IPO, the Docs boot brand is struggling, and the CEO is stepping down. What went wrong?

BY Rob Walker

Branded is a weekly column devoted to the intersection of marketing, business, design, and culture.

Dr. Martens was one of the weirdest success stories of the pandemic: Somehow, at a sweats-and-Crocs moment when stuck-at-home consumers prized comfort above all, the maker of rebel-fashion work boots enjoyed a standout IPO that valued the company at more than $5 billion in 2021. Quite a feat for a brand that first got hot way back in the 1960s—and that had flirted with bankruptcy as recently as 2003.

But that thrilling market debut is all nostalgia now. The bootmaker has been stumbling for months, with a string of disappointing quarterly results. It recently signaled a weak outlook for its new fiscal year that started in April, and announced its CEO’s pending exit; shares fell 30% in a single day and briefly halted trading. With the stock now trading at less than $1 a share, the company has lost a gut-wrenching 75% of its IPO value. One activist investor has even suggested the company should find a buyer

But it’s not quite right to dismiss Dr. Martens as a fashion victim with no future. In retrospect, its IPO was exquisitely timed, neatly coinciding with an extremely elevated moment in the brand’s peaks-and-valleys history.

Originally a blue-collar work boot, Docs became part of multiple British subculture uniforms (The Who’s Pete Townshend is often cited as the trailblazer). Built to last and recognizable for distinct yellow stitching, the boots blended function and aesthetics—periodically falling out of style only to be rediscovered by punks, goths, the grunge scene, and the subsequent retro variations on those trends. After its early 2000s bankruptcy scare, the company shifted most production abroad, then rode a 2010s wave of indie rock fashion nostalgia back into the limelight. A private equity firm bought the brand for roughly $500 million in 2014; sales reportedly increased fourfold from 2016 to 2020.

And with the signature boots thriving despite years of price increases and the COVID onslaught—buoyed, perhaps, by social-media influencers looking for bold fashion statements—it seemed plausible, back in 2021, that Dr. Martens could march into a stronger share in China and emerging markets and keep expanding its customer base.

Instead, new growth has stalled, and U.S. consumers (the biggest Docs market) are chasing other trends. Of course, inflation hasn’t helped, and there are other various theories about why the brand has fallen out of favor with Americans (Britain’s fashion cool has been ebbing lately, and the brand’s frequent collaborations have made it look more thirsty than relevant . . . or that the long-lasting boots just don’t need to be replaced). The company expects both revenue and earnings to fall in fiscal 2025, with U.S. wholesale orders expected to plunge double digits.

In retrospect, the same hype cycle that jacked up Dr. Martens value in 2021 is exactly what’s hurting it now. Venerable brands can certainly become trendy again, but these “comebacks” can seldom maintain the hockey-stick growth of an actual newcomer. That’s especially true when a brand’s cachet is tied up in edgy or rebel status—the likes of Converse and Vans have had similar ups and downs. (Birkenstocks, despite counterculture roots, never quite achieved fashion-cool, building an audience gradually with a reputation for style-defying comfort).

Of course, there is no guarantee that this cycle will turn back in Dr. Martens favor. Maybe this generation of fashionable rebels has all the durable boots they need. Or maybe the next generation will value price over legacy and authenticity: The company recently filed suit against Temu, claiming that the online mega-retailer gamed Google results so that searches for the shoe brand would lead to Doc-esque boots on Temu.

That said, even a distressed Dr. Martens still has value. That pessimistic fiscal year outlook still includes actual earnings; this isn’t a startup chasing its first profit. And that brand legacy has value that defies easy quantification but is impossible to fake. Right now, it might feel like bad news that Docs seem almost universally known—a symbol of cool from the Clash to Nirvana to Billie Eilish that’s so familiar, it’s almost comfortable. But before too long, that exact same quality may be the good news again.

 

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Rob Walker writes Branded, a weekly column about marketing and branding. He also writes about design, business, and other subjects 


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