How Timberland Went From Dirty Work Boots to Hip-Hop Drip

For the last two decades, London’s iconic Phonica Records has been the place for vintage vinyl fans who’ve devoted their weekends to bin diving. But in November 2018, shop visitors had an experience that went well beyond LPs on markdown. A door at the back of the store opened into a tunnel lit with purple neon and, beyond that, a low-lit gallery with limited-edition boots sitting inside acrylic cabinets: Timberland boots. What did a New Hampshire-based hiking boot brand have to do with a hipster London record store? Well, only everything. Phonica Records’ 2018 exhibition was an homage not just to Timberland, but also to the hip-hop artists who adopted it, influenced it and saved it from mediocrity. As marketing vp Ezra Martin encapsulates it: “The Original Yellow Boot became widely embraced by hip-hop artists and became an icon.” Not that anyone saw it coming. In 1955, entrepreneur Nathan Swartz bought Abington Shoe Co., which did decent business making private-label shoes for retailers. Soles got stitched to uppers in those days, a costly step that Swartz eliminated when he adopted injection molding—a process that also made the shoes impervious to water. In 1973, the company began selling a waterproof boot it called Timberland—which makes this year its 50th birthday. It proved so popular that, by 1978, Swartz chucked the Abington name altogether. Timberland aimed its boots at blue-collar guys with rough, outdoor jobs—a loyal demographic that was also, by the 1980s, slowly disappearing. And then something strange happened: In New York's nascent rap scene, Timberland boots caught on big. Mobb Deep and Tupac sported Timberlands in public, while Biggie Smalls and Nas wore them and rapped about them. Reportedly, an emerging star named Jay-Z bought a fresh pair every week. “Timberland is wrestling with a sort of, uh, concrete success it has never sought,” observed The New York Times in 1993. “At first, Timberland didn’t know how to merge its work and outdoor heritage with its newfound place in hip-hop culture,” Martin said. “But today, it is very much embraced as a legendary part of the brand’s history.” A big part. The Timberland story is one of adaptation—of product and marketing alike. Once the company realized who its core fans were, it began to focus on them, rolling out new styles and colors and, importantly, doing collaborations with brands like Pharrell’s Billionaire Boys Club. (Those boots in the Phonica Records exhibit were collabs with Stussy and Opening Ceremony.) That strategy continues to serve Timberland well. Earlier this year, it rolled out its purple and gold Hip-Hop Royalty Boot. Meanwhile, thanks to hip-hop lyrics we can’t print here, the classic Timberland boot even got a new name: “Timbs.” Google it. Kicking up a fuss In 1993, when The New York Times asked evp Jeffrey Swartz (Nathan's grandson) about his brand’s hip-hop credentials, he admitted: “Timberland is being adopted by a consumer that we didn’t know existed, relative to our target audience.” The quote rankled some, who charged that Timberland didn’t want “urban” customers. But Swartz was simply stating a fact: Timberland had long positioned itself as a rugged outdoor brand. As for its politics, the company pointed out that its “Give Racism the Boot” campaign was underway and, for years, it had given millions of dollars to City Year, a nonprofit group that tutors students in underserved communities. Boots on the ground Opened in March, Timberland’s flagship store at 550 Broadway location in New York is, according to North America vp Tracy Smith, “one of the ways we are honoring the communities that helped make Timberland the brand it is today.” To draw loyal shoppers, the store offers in-house customization and a new community membership program. From outdoors to onstage Nathan Swartz, shown here with son Sidney, (1) introduced Timberland waterproof boots in 1973. A decade later, the workwear brand was adopted by hip-hop fans after stars like Biggie Smalls (2) and Jay-Z (3) began performing in them.

Perspective

How Timberland Went From Dirty Work Boots to Hip-Hop Drip

The waterproof boot from New England adapted to the streets of the Bronx

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