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In American fashion culture big name corporate retailers such as the Gap and Urban Outfitters dominate
the marketplace. Even companies that have sprang up from subculture youth sports, companies born from
the underground worlds of surf and skate like Billabong and Hurley have eventually given in to the
multi-million dollar buy-outs that capitalize on the now fashionable generation-X sports. Tagging the
youth hooked on X-games with their brands, a market where many of the consumers don’t even participate
in the co-aligned sports has weakened the backbone of these companies’ core images. Fortunately, a new
breed of entrepreneur has emerged from the center of the action sports world, and what these new companies
often lack in corporate funding or big name sponsored events, they gain from a customer base that is in love
with the sport that the clothes are inspired from, and those consumer loyalists are perfectly willing to give
the clothing giants the proverbial bird to prove it. BigWorm is giving whitewater kayakers a bird to give,
and some style along the way.
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Although far from fruition, the roots of BigWorm came from a college dropout that moved to Breckenridge,
Colorado in 1998 in pursuit of freestyle skiing dreams. “It was pretty much my college years, minus the
homework,” explains founder of BigWorm Clothing, Mark Olson. “I partied and skied hard, making it a
point to have next to zero responsibilities.” Olson’s minor in ski bumology led him to a handful of
major wrecks, resulting in a broken leg and collar bone in three seasons, “and kayaking fell right into place.”
A job as a server at the Breckenridge Brewery introduced Olson to Earl Richmond, co-owner of Colorado Kayak Supply.
It wasn’t long until Olson was working at CKS headquarters in Nathrop, Colorado, where he regularly signed over his
paychecks to pay for the gear that he had ‘borrowed’ from his employer. The rest of the money went towards gas since
he still lived in Breckenridge, so he did what any sensible ski-bum turned kayak-bum would do. Olson moved out
of his tiny downtown Breckenridge apartment, sold all of his furniture, bought an old half-broken and rusted
brown van for $1000, and parked it in the CKS parking lot to fully take advantage of the Arkansas River.
Although most individuals entering the mysterious world of freelance kayaking tend to keep to themselves
by camping at a quite take-out, Olson chose front row parking at one of the busiest retail shops in the state.
To say that he was proud of being a kayaker would be an understatement, and admittedly this experience may
have been one of the most influential in the creation of BigWorm; a river rat still wearing ski bum clothes,
ready to trade in his wardrobe for stylish and at the time largely non-existent kayaker apparel.
But the idea wasn’t conscious. Instead Olson took a stab at becoming a pro-kayaker, quickly realizing that
athlete support wasn’t there. “I went broke in Oregon one winter while trying to train,” he smiles, “and
decided to go about kayaking everyday in a different way. That’s when I went back to Colorado and decided
to try my own business.”
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| Mark in action |
With his van dead, Olson sold ‘big brown bertha’ to a Eugene junkyard for $25, and promptly hitched a
ride back to Colorado arriving with $5 to his name. As he split long work hours between CKS and bartending
in Breckenridge to get back on his feet, Olson’s entrepreneurial spirit began to surface. Eventually,
Olson ended up renting a one-room apartment attached to pro-kayaker Jed Selby’s house in downtown Buena
Vista, and started production on wooden signs that read “Gone Kayaking.” “It was a short venture,” said Olson.
“But hanging around with Jed must have rubbed off on me. He is a true visionary and a very inspirational person.
It was then when I really decided to commit to my idea of this clothing company.” BigWorm was born.
His 400 square foot apartment was the perfect place to do so, and the then 28-year-old Olson was ready for
the challenge. With a dishwasher full of two inch deep dirty water, and a fridge absent of everything except
PBJ ingredients, Olson sat at his makeshift wooden coffee table going over financials, which until recently,
have been entirely handwritten in a spiral notebook. All around him it looked as though an intellectual bomb
had gone off, with stacks of books littered over every flat surface; history books rested on top of business
management books, crushing an outdated issue of Kayak Mag. And, in every corner of the room a box of BigWorm
shirts, hoodies, or hats could be found.
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Also visually evident at the living room headquarters was Olson’s commitment to give back to the community,
with random kayaking friends making a bed out of his couch. BigWorm has continued this sharing tradition with
the donation of one dollar to non-profit organization American Whitewater for every item sold, a highly generous
offering considering the slim margins on the items. “I am a believer in giving back to the things that give to
you,” explains Olson. “Kayaking has given me the best moments in my life, and if I can create a business that
can help protect our rivers and land then I’ll be stoked.”
So what’s in store for the BigWorm future? Only Olson knows, but a new creek inspired shirt design should
surface shortly, and plans are to convert the entire product line to organic cotton. Perhaps more important
than product line plans is the dedication of the BigWorm to give kayakers a company that they can call their
own. “The lifestyle that kayakers experience is very unique,” says Olson as he sorts through inventory in his
apartment, “and it is the main driving force behind my motivation to pursue this clothing adventure.”
Despite a negative income statement, BigWorm still managed to contribute $80 to American Whitewater in 2005.
To learn more about BigWorm Clothing, check out
www.bigwormclothing.com.
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