The L.L. Bean Before “Preppy”

"Preppy” was mainstreamed in the early 1980s.  It became self-aware which, as with a precocious five- year-old who one day realizes they can manipulate adults with their smile, or Skynet, didn’t bode well.  

But there was a time before “Preppy,” the chronicling of which should not be left to the sharp elbowed (with ChatGPT and Google Image search).

For example, L.L. Bean.

My parents had shopped at L.L. Bean before I was born.  My father would hop into his Black 1952 MG TD with its red leather seats, and along with his father, head up to the Maine coast in pursuit of their duck shooting and grouse shooting kit, including from Beans.  Our house was littered with what are now called Bean Boots.  We called them pacs. 

As long as I can remember, I have been joining on pilgrimages to Beans.  

Every trek to the Maine coast would always include a stop in Freeport.  It was unthinkable not to do it.  It was one of three milestones.  The first was going over the Piscataqua River Bridge (we would always cheer at the Maine state line sign).  The next was stopping at the Maine rest stop to get out and smell the pine.  And the third was pulling off the Desert Road exit to Freeport.   (Many might even remember eating at The Falcon.)

Then, when pulling into the cottage at the end of the drive, there was a predictable process.  We would first get out and take a look at the view, smell the salt air, unlock the door, and then (even before unpacking the car) take out the Bean “loot” in their familiar bags.  And inspect them with great satisfaction.  Every time.  Year after year.  Many times a year.  For decades.

More than anything L.L. Bean gave you a certain feel.  And it was good.    

L.L. Bean was steady, reliable.  They were a catalog store first, based on trust.  They sold tasteful clothes that were well made at a fair price.  And so they accrued a certain kind of customer.  Many a time while shopping at their Freeport store (and for decades there was only the one store) as I would look around to find my parents I would think I saw them everywhere.  That was because all the customers were dressed in the same type of clothing.  It was a bit disorienting.  But familiar.

I remember the excitement when Women’s clothing became available, and going up the large wooden staircase in the back of the store to where my mother would buy her khaki wrap-around skirts.  She would wear them with her button down oxford shirts and Topsiders.  And I remember she also bought their chamois cloth wrap around skirts, which seems anathema now (all that added bulk to the hips…).  

And L.L. Bean brought together so many great products, including importing the Norwegian Sweaters.  And many of them were made by local manufacturers, like the hat manufacturer Vermont Originals.

L.L. Bean was the default place to buy products like khakis, Blucher Mocs, Camp Mocs, oxford shirts, tattersall shirts, and Shetland sweaters.  All made where they should be made – the US, Scotland, England, and Norway.  

It was a shared experience, not a competitive one.

Then came the impact of the 1980s.  And it was all over.  

Leon Gorman wrote “LL Bean as fashion was a mixed blessing for us, and we all knew it.  Our sales increased markedly in the near term but were unlikely to be sustainable long term.  In addition, being fashionable was a serious contradiction of our character and brand positioning.  It confused our positioning internally as well as in the marketplace.” (L.L. Bean: The Making of an American Icon)

Over the next couple of decades, L.L. Bean would get rid many vendors, and create their own knocks-offs. 

Said Chris McCormick (subsequent L.L. Bean CEO, also in L.L. Bean: The Making of an American Icon): "I'm guessing 60 or 70 percent of our items were probably sourced in the (United States) then.  … What the consultants pointed out is that the world had moved offshore…  So we created the sourcing department and gave them marching orders to improve our margins and reduce our cost of goods sold… Today maybe 20 percent of our items are made in the (United States), and the rest are offshore…  It wasn't so much sales growth that drove the performance of that year, it was improving margins that improved profitability of that year."

I have talked to more than one manufacturer of Made-in-the-US products who did not recount their L.L. Bean experiences overly fondly. 

At least their boots and totes are still made in Maine.

I received an email from a person claiming to be an employee at L.L. Bean,  highly critical (and devastatingly accurate) of today's social media influenced 'prep' shopper.  The author wrote that L.L. Bean targets, as well as traditional shoppers, the customers “who love the idea of being ‘prep’ and ‘Down-east’ without having to leave home. These customers are definitely middle to upper middle class and have grown up in our disposable society and are comfortable with lower quality, imported items. Planned obsolescence is the norm. This group is more apt to follow fashion trends,” and customers who are “the bargain hunters who feel they are buying a brand name at a deep discount. These customers never pay retail and are only there to peruse the sale racks and could really care less about quality or country of origin.”

So today, L.L. Bean, as with the label “Preppy”, is the opposite of what they, and it, were/was.  

There was a chumminess that used to exist.  The employees were outstanding, knowledgeable and well spoken.  They knew the products from their experience with them.  It was the height of New England-y-ness.   It felt comfortable.   It felt familiar.  (My husband shares over 6 sets of common great grandparents with old L.L. himself). 

To show how much things have changed, just consider L.L. Bean’s historical Unconditional Guarantee.  The question in today’s world is not, “Why did they get rid of it?” But, “How could they ever have had it at all?”

Walk through the Bean Freeport store today and it is a sea of, well, ugly.  (The employees are still very friendly.)

The redefinition of “Preppy” in the early 80s has led to its increasing derivativeness, as it becomes louder and louder, cheaper and cheaper, more competitive and aspirational.

Meanwhile, I have talked to many of the younger generations who tell me they are looking for authenticity, simplicity, practicality, taste, and durability.  They want apparel guided by what clothes are intended to do.  

Which means, just possibly, might the Thing Before Preppy become the Thing After Preppy?