“My grandfather was in the sock business, and my dad is in the sock business,” says Ric Cabot, owner of Vermont-based Darn Tough Socks.
“I am a third generation sock maker. People appreciate that sort of commitment from a family, a commitment to build a business and grow it. We will never sell out to a bigger corporation. We will never cash out, move overseas, and turn our backs on the families that depend on us,” promises Ric Cabot. “Never.”
Cabot’s father Marc opened Cabot Hosiery Mills in 1978. It mostly made chunky private label wool socks in its Northfield, Vermont, factory, knitting for the Gap, Banana Republic, Old Navy and The Limited. Ric joined the company in 1989, giving up journalism for the booming family business. Then trade restrictions changed and Cabot Hosiery tanked. Creditors were threatening to close the mill. “I knew if this business was ever going to pass to a fourth generation of Cabots, something had to change,” recalled Ric.
“I wracked my brain and I realized that we were never going to be the cheapest, but that we could make the best-fitting, most comfortable, most durable performance socks.” Ric called them Darn Tough—just like Vermonters. “But the name meant more than tough socks,” says Cabot. “For me, it meant—and means—I can’t let this thing fail; I can’t give up. It’s also aspirational. I want people to feel like they can tackle the world with Darn Tough socks on. Put Darn Toughs on your feet and you can tackle tough challenges, go the extra mile, bag a big peak. The name means we’re there with you. We understand struggle. And our socks are darn tough in their own right. They perform as promised. And if they don’t, we’re tough enough to stand behind them.”
To launch Darn Tough, Cabot bought the finest New Zealand merino wool and the highest-tech knitting machines with the smallest needles. He engaged the hosiery’s highly trained staff, some of who had been making socks for 30 years. They experimented until they knit a high-density, low-bulk sock with more then twice the stitches of other socks. Then they gave away 3,500 pairs at the Key Bank Vermont City Marathon with an unconditional guarantee—if they ever wear out, you can return them for another pair. “A lot of people wrote us that they liked the fit, liked the feel, and reported that even though they had never run in our socks, they didn’t get blisters,” recalls Cabot.
Though Darn Tough has seen continual growth of about 60% each year, their return rate is still just a fraction of one percent. Cabot still reads every email they get about their socks. “When we get returns,” says Cabot, “we take that data and turn it into better socks.”
Cabot now employs 170 Vermonters, and the company has just submitted plans to the town of Norwich, Vermont, to roughly triple its factory size. That means more jobs in an underemployed community of 6,200 people, many of whom are former mill workers.
“Being tough, being clever—that’s the Vermont story,” says Cabot. “We’ve done good, and we can do even better. I don’t want to be a success, I just want to be successful. Success to me would imply that I’ve reached the end, done the best I can do. But I still haven’t made our best sock.” Cabot and staff improve Darn Tough incrementally. While the knitting is fundamentally the same as when the brand started, they now use lighter yarns, higher micron merinos and wicking synthetics in their socks, all with the goal of having you forget that you’re wearing them. When Darn Tough improves the fit, comfort or durability of one sock, it improves that feature in all 1,600 styles. That keeps the brand experience the same across all categories.
Cabot is passionate. “The market appreciates quality,” he says. “You send jobs out of the U.S. to be cheapest and you take away hope—hope of bettering your life, hope for helping yourself and your family. We’re just a stitch in the health and well-being of the U.S. and Vermont economy, but we’re trying to boost both—one pair of socks at a time.”
Shop Darn Tough socks at REI.com.