Field Report: What Buckle Does Different
Month after month, teen apparel chain The Buckle posts impressive same-store sales increases -- 28.9 percent in June. Despite operating 377 stores in 39 states, it gets little attention from the business press because of its small market cap ($1.5 billion) and anemic analyst following.
CEO Dennis Nelson admitted that even management was gobsmacked by such positive results as competitors like Gap and Target have gotten hammered. "We expected to have a good year, and felt real good about our product and people all the way along, but would never have guessed to have the sales increases we did have," he told an April conference call.
So let's take a field trip to a typical 5,000-square-foot Buckle store in a suburban mall. As always, we're accompanied by resident fashionista Sara, who at 13 is all about impressing the kids at drama camp.
Buckle began in the 1970s as "The Brass Buckle," selling to guys and emphasizing denim. Like its mall neighbors, Aeropostale, American Eagle, Rave and PacSun, the store at FlatIron Crossing in Broomfield, Colo., is stuffed with what high school kids will be wearing when school starts in
August: stylish items that won't get you sent to the assistant principal's office. Buckle focuses on an ornate, embellished style, with lots of mismatched, layered prints in bright colors -- ethnic prints, dye-sub, and burnout designs for women, and plaids with tattoo patterns for men.
The selection of jeans is enormous and ranges from $59.50 to $169.50, starting with the BKE private label and including Lucky Brand, Silver Brand, MEK and Affliction.
It's skatery, but not beachy; bright, but not sporty; edgy without being Hot Topic. Hailing from Kearney, Nebraska, Buckle calls the look "country boho."
Whatever it is, kids are buying it. According to CEO Dennis Nelson, while price points declined last year, the number of transactions went through the roof. Buckle shoppers are clearly coming back and bringing their friends in the search for that perfect pair of jeans that make you look extra-fine.
Seventeen describes the look for girls as "modern hippie" in its August back-to-school issue, highlighting Buckle's ornately patterned tops ($24), fringed leather bags ($115) and distressed stretch flares ($66). The outfit above costs $239.17; the shirt my daughter liked was $136 (um, no) but most tops were $24 to $36.
For guys, the emphasis is on heavy graphics and layered prints, in a bad-boy-with-a-soft-heart way. There's a line endorsed by rocker Chris Daughtry (you know, the bald guy who should have won American Idol three seasons ago), and another endorsed by the Mississippi band 3 Doors Down. Footwear runs to flip-flops and Chuck Taylors. Jeans are beat-up, embellished and funky, and come in 28 to 38 inseam, 22 to 42 waist, four rises eight fit profiles from "skinny" to "plus."
What else? A mix of price points, help to "complete the look," unusually clued customer service that includes free alterations, and increasing appeal to older shoppers further differentiate Buckle from the herd. "We're finding and hearing from our stores that we're having ladies in the 30's, 40's and up that are buying denim from us," Nelson said on that April call.
Then there's the Kearney, Nebraska factor. This Platte River valley market town is best known for sandhill cranes, not sportswear, and Buckle's story runs heavily on loyalty and customer focus rather than flash. The founder's son Dan Hirschfeld is still chairman; Nelson, who started as a part-timer in college 30 years ago, told investors at an Oppenheimer conference early this month that EVP of sales Jim Shada and VP of sales Kari Smith have 60 years at Buckle between them. Women's merchandising chief Pat Whisler is also a 30-year veteran, while men's merchandising is led by Bob Carlberg, a rookie at 25 years. Perhaps a corporate culture based on Nebraska Nice is the secret sauce.