Lovitz, too, says that Pride collections are a boon for business. Patagonia declared on its landing page, “The President Lied to You,” then immediately turned a profit. “Especially in the age we're in right now, visibility for LGBT people has never been more important,” says Lovitz.īrands have found their political voices since the election of Donald Trump-at least in part because doing so is terrific for business. At this moment, just releasing a Pride collection can feel like a politically charged and important act. “What I think is happening is a lot of brands and businesses are filling a void of government, frankly, and filling a moral void,” he says. Pride efforts, Blumenthal says, need to carry a heavier load because they’re doing all the lifting. “In this political environment, we feel like it's especially important to be louder than in years past.” “If you had asked us when we started the company eight years ago whether we felt like eight years from now we'd have to be amplifying the message, I think we would say probably not,” says Blumenthal. In past years, the brand gave out stickers and donated to the right causes, but that didn’t feel like enough in 2018, when the rights of minority groups feel much more vulnerable than they did just a few years ago. In Blumenthal’s eyes, these Pride collections are more important than ever.
“Sometimes customers do just want something subtle-a rainbow clasp on a bracelet-or they want a full RompHim in rainbow colors, and it's great that there are options now for everything in between,” says Lovitz.) Instead, Blumenthal hopes the glasses will spark a conversation about the inspiration behind them. “We found most people don't want to be walking billboards.” (Not to say that only minimalist Pride collections can be cool. “Just like our core product at Warby Parker, we don't have very visible logos,” says co-founder Neil Blumenthal. The brand released a full range of glasses that are meant to collectively represent a rainbow but that come in individual translucent colors. Warby Parker also found that there’s more than one way to use the rainbow iconography. The collection is designed by a team that is 100 percent LGBTQ, and Nike has raised $2.7 million for LGBTQ causes since 2012, says Kneller.
“The team takes pride in not just putting a rainbow on gear, but to instead develop meaningful authentic connections,” says Matthew Kneller, Nike’s director of global corporate communications. Nike tweeted “Let’s talk” back to Act Up the brand says it will announce soon which organizations proceeds from this collection will benefit.) It’s a genuinely cool-looking shoe that can be worn to a Pride parade-or in one of your coolest Instagrams. (The LGBTQ-rights advocacy group Act Up called out Nike for using the organization’s triangle symbol without donating the proceeds. The Zoom Fly design takes one of Nike’s best-loved new silhouettes, with its marshmallow-puff sole and see-through upper, and subtly dots it with Pride references: The triangle, used to identify LGBTQ people during WWII but reclaimed and used by gay activists in the ’70s, appears on the heel a small streak of rainbow snakes along the sole and there are pink and blue tabs on the back that reference the colors of the transgender flag.
The Nike BeTrue Zoom Fly, with its blushing lavender toebox, matching racing stripe, small rainbow patch on the back, is proof that more thoughtful Pride collections can exist. “This was a chance to literally wear my support of them on my sleeve,” Lovitz says. There wasn’t a moment in his prep that wasn’t enabled by a woke brand. He laced up his Converse rainbow shoes, wore a shirt from Nike’s “Be True” collection, and even shaved beforehand with an iridescent razor cast in the pink, purple, and blue shades associated with the bisexual flag from Harry’s. When he attended his local Pride parade in Philadelphia a couple weeks ago, the options were endless. Today Lovitz, the senior vice president of the National LGBT Chamber of Commerce, has a completely different experience. After the parade, executives would return to their corporate offices until next year. “That was the one time you had all year to stock up,” he says. They were mostly rainbow-adorned T-shirts, but Lovitz was like a Supermarket Sweep contestant. Brands-largely silent about LGBTQ causes for the other 364 days of the year-would turn up at parades with carts of rainbowed apparel to pick over. Ten years ago, a Pride parade was an opportunity for Jonathan Lovitz to completely revamp his wardrobe.