Mia and I have been texting quite a bit lately about Abercrombie & Fitch. They’re suddenly everywhere, all over again— in the headlines of business and fashion pubs, among every moderately upscale strip of clothing stores bookended by a Starbucks and Sweetgreen, and supposedly tagged constantly among influencers on Instagram and TikTok (although, this I wouldn’t know first-hand— reasons why, later discussed).
Mia— UK born, raised, and now residing— barely knows Abercrombie & Fitch, or at least not to the personal extent that I feel I do. She tells me that she fancied Tammy Girl and Miss Selfridge as a teen. I, on the other hand, was an A&F devotee in my youth. As an American teen of the 90s, Abercrombie & Fitch was as central to my coming of age as Caboodles and Beverly Hills 90210 (if you know, you know). I can literally smell my memory of the brand (again— if you know, you know).
So what’s this I hear? They’re back?
“Abercrombie & Fitch is cool again”1 seems to be the resounding consensus among both experts and friends. In fact, I have one friend and expert, a business consultant, who returned from a work trip to their Ohio HQ late last year and excitedly reported, “they’re killing it!”. She gave little explanation as to why or how, and I didn’t press. I was too taken with her story about being let loose in their archives which I immediately envisioned as an airplane hanger-sized space with shotguns and riding jodhpurs in one corner and plaid mini skirts and crop tops in the other.
It’s been close to 30 years since I’ve thought about Abercrombie & Fitch this much. I have a 12-year-old daughter, and I recently brought her to the A&F website for some back-to-school shopping. She’s a tall, mature 12 years— too old for Boden and Hanna Andersson, too young for H&M and Anthropologie, and, I, too cheap for Aviator Nation. Recalling my own 12-year-old penchant for A&F as well as my friend and expert’s enthusiasm for the brand’s comeback, I thought, “Well, this will be a slam dunk.” Hardly. My daughter’s reaction and mine were a joint “meh”— her because the brand had aged-up significantly in the decades since my youth, and I because I felt it had completely lost its edge.
This 180 is exactly the change that Chantal Fernandez dissects in her recent article for The Cut titled “The Unbranding of Abercrombie”.2 She writes,
“Today’s Abercrombie has replaced fantasy with humble practicality, offering a reasonably priced uniform for the TikTok-adjacent life where every outfit is familiar but unidentifiable, minimalist but just trendy enough. The result is less a rebranding than an unbranding, untethered from any particular aesthetic.”
To Fernandez and most of Wall Street3, A&F’s “unbranding” is a triumph— reason for their recent surge in sales. To me— perhaps driven by nostalgia, but most likely swayed by a career mantra asserting “brand is everything”— it’s the makings of a tragedy.
Don’t get me wrong— entering this decade, Abercrombie & Fitch had some serious brand baggage to shed: blatant discrimination, a sex-obsessed culture, and— depending on who you talk to— loose to close associations with Jeffrey Epstein, the reputation incinerator of anyone or anything that even grazes his orbit.4 A&F has been in need of a big-time reset for some time, but “unbranding”? I’m just not convinced.
To me, the Abercrombie & Fitch brand has always stood for seduction of a uniquely American breed. Not scandalous seduction, but seduction in the purest meaning of the word: temptation to experience a heightened sense of self. In its early days, shoppers were presumably seduced to see themselves as affluent and skilled sportsmen. Later, to envision themselves like a weekend JFK, manning the sails of a small craft off the coast of Hyannis with an adoring and beautiful wife gaga over their every move. In my youth, it was the temptation to be the “it” girl— the one with the best style, perfect hair, and effortless magnetism. Now, the of-the-moment rendition of seduction from the A&F brand is hard to detect— so much so that Fernandez is not wrong to infer they’ve done away with it. But have they?
The marketer in me simply can’t accept that “unbranding” is a reasonable growth strategy, particularly one endorsed and pursued by the seasoned experts in the C-suite at A&F. Un-logoing, yes. Untethering from a particular style or type of consumer, for sure— especially in fashion. But I can’t think of a single brand that has succeeded over the long haul by completely shedding what they stand for.
I recently visited the newish Abercrombie & Fitch store that— in the COVID recovery period— moved into a popular stretch of fashion retail on Chicago’s northside. A sign on the door read,
“This is a community. We build each other up. Celebrate each other. Validate each other. And show empathy & respect. Because in this community everyone belongs. This is Abercrombie today.”
My initial thought, “Wow— they’re really trying hard to shake their past. Maybe too hard?” My judgment softened when I considered the extent of the ick in their recent history. I opened the door to be greeted by a waft of cologne which was both new and familiar— a new scent (presumably from their “Fierce” collection), a familiar sensation of entering A&F’s fragrant dome of allure.
Once the nose-induced memory and accompanying electrical charge subsided, I looked around to see little trace of the 90s A&F that I remember. I expected this having read The Cut article and numerous others marveling at the retailer’s major, yet toned-down makeover (oh, and there was also that disappointing 2-minute scan of their website with my daughter a few months earlier). Expecting different, I didn’t quite anticipate strange. The scene was crowded and at the same time sterile. An indistinguishable mix of shoppers and salespeople (mostly women) scooted between the tiered tables and racks. The floors were cement, walls white, and clothes drapey and muted except for a section of wedding wear in bold floral prints. I found myself taking a deep breath before passing from the entryway into the cramped retail space. I didn’t know where to look or what path to take. Literally nothing caught my eye— except for that damn wedding wall again. Was this retail disorientation intentional— like the sign on the door— an exaggerated effort to disassociate with the brand’s past? But then, what was with the familiar and iconic fragrance bath upon entry?
I took a quick spin around the store dodging pairs of twenty-somethings, a gaggle of older teens, and a mother-daughter duo— the mom about 60 and daughter about 30— both with armloads of clothes to try on. I tugged on a single white tee with an enticing stretchy fabric and then beelined for the door. Truth: I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. After a dozen or so quick paces down the block, I stopped, turned on my heels, looked back at the mannequin-less storefront and realized that nothing but unrest registered from that brief shopping experience.
Why was I feeling so devastated? Sure— it’s sad to see change, especially when my memories of A&F are positive (realizing that’s not true for everyone): shopping sprees with my mom and sis, quick glances at the hot guys in the stores’ oversized wall art, and the perfect back-to-school outfit. It hit me that my devastation stemmed from something much bigger— concern that everything I had lived-by in my career, my fundamental belief in the power and importance of brand, might actually be wrong. Maybe “unbranding” really is a path to growth?
Nah, can’t be. First of all, we’ve not yet seen where Abercrombie & Fitch’s recent spike in sales is going to go. If history is any indication, this could just be another wave of traction swiftly gained and lost by the company— a ride on the current fashion tide defined by laid-back tastes and post-COVID confusion (“these flowy pajama bottoms are suitable for work, right?”).
For the sake of the company and its shareholders, I hope this is more than a ripple. In truth, I’m skeptical. I sense a bit of boardroom conflict when I look at where the brand is today— something I’ve witnessed many times over. When you bring a bunch of smart, experienced people together to manifest a turn-around there’s naturally going to be some push towards the thrill of doing things entirely differently and pull towards the security of what’s familiar and believed-to-be formulaic (although it never is). The result can be a bit messy, especially at the get-go. That said, I have hope.
Despite the disturbing lack of cohesion that I witnessed in the Chicago A&F store, I found something different when I visited the retailer online for a second go-round— this time by myself and with a magnifying glass on the lookout for evidence of the brand’s historic throughline: seduction. At first glance, I spotted numerous photographs of women in relatively conservative cuts with their shirt buttons strategically undone, baring tanlines and midriffs. This reeked of the version of seduction employed by the brand in the 90s and early 2000s. Then, of course, A&F’s fragrance line had plenty of seductive turns of phrase surrounding it (“captures the essence of desire”5 and “one of the most sought-after scents in the world”6). But the most interesting, compelling, and widespread evidence of seduction that I eventually detected— from which I myself felt seduced— was actually quite understated.
Almost all of the photographs portrayed people looking ready to be noticed in their non-standout-ish, but perfectly put-together garb. They weren’t particularly model-y except for the telltale cocked shoulder or hip. And, they weren’t adorned with an armful of clinky look-at-me bracelets, chunky necklaces, or big sunglasses— usually just a glint of high cheek gloss. They were wallflowers, plain and simple. And isn’t there a piece of all of us in this modern world with a million different ways to artificially boost, plump, and lengthen that just wants to be noticed for who we really are— not for the clothes we wear but for how the clothes wear us? Isn’t that why we root for Penelope Featherington so hard?
So maybe Abercrombie & Fitch hasn’t unbranded at all. Maybe they’re still locked in to their original— and in my opinion— most valuable equity. Time will tell. The company’s second quarter earnings are due out in a matter of weeks and Abercrombie & Fitch CFO, Scott Lipesky, recently hinted to the BBC about an expected slow-down in the second half of the year.7 That’s certainly the natural course for a business that has everything riding on being a one-stop shop for bridesmaids (there’s nothing quite like winter temps to freeze the wedding market). Hopefully A&F has other plans.
Nathaniel Meyersohn, “Abercrombie & Fitch is cool again,” CNN Business, pub date: 1/10/2023, https://www.cnn.com/2023/01/10/business/abercrombie-and-fitch-shopping-millennials-gen-z/index.html
Chantal Fernandez, “The Unbranding of Abercrombie,” The Cut, pub date: 7/5/2024, https://www.thecut.com/article/abercrombie-wedding-guest-dresses-bridesmaids.html
Hyunsoo Rim, “The Beloved 90s Fashion Brand Is Making A Turnaround— Even Beating Nvidia Over The Past Year,” Forbes, pub date: 5/31/2024, https://www.forbes.com/sites/hyunsoorim/2024/05/31/the-beloved-90s-fashion-brand-is-making-a-turnaround-even-beating-nvidia-over-the-past-year
Matthew Wilson, “The rise and fall— and rise again— of Abercrombie & Fitch",” Business Insider, pub date: 3/26/2020, https://www.businessinsider.com/history-of-clothing-brand-abercrombie-and-fitch?utm_source=copy-link&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=topbar
Abercrombie & Fitch website, access date: July 11 2024, https://www.abercrombie.com/shop/us/p/fierce-perfume-7471627?categoryId=12276&faceout=prod&seq=01
Abercrombie & Fitch website, access date: July 11 2024, https://www.abercrombie.com/shop/us/p/fierce-night-cologne-42183319?categoryId=12276&faceout=prod&seq=02
Natalie Sherman, “Abercrombie surges as 1990s revivial spreads,” BBC News, pub date: 5/29/2024, https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/cpdd1j45y13o