When Brands Lose Their Soul: Do Not Trade Growth At All Costs For Your Identity
Learning from the fall of surf establishment and the raise of indie brands
There was a time when Quiksilver, Billabong, and Volcom weren’t just surf brands—they were identities. More than clothing, they represented a way of life, a connection to the ocean, and a rebellious, free-spirited ethos that connected profoundly with surfers, skaters, and action sports enthusiasts. Wearing these brands wasn’t just about style; it was about belonging to a culture that valued adventure, authenticity, and the pursuit of the perfect wave. This happened at the intersection of culture, sports, music, entertainment, and fashion.
For decades, these brands were at the center of surf and skate culture, sponsoring world-class athletes, shaping trends, and creating products that weren’t just fashionable but functional for the lifestyle they represented. They weren’t built in boardrooms; they emerged from the beach, the streets, and the people who lived and breathed the sport. But somewhere along the way, things changed.
As private equity firms and corporate conglomerates took over, the focus shifted from culture to commerce. Instead of nurturing the communities that made them successful, these brands chased rapid mass-market expansion—opening stores in every mall, slapping logos on everything, and diluting the essence that made them unique. The result? A slow decline into irrelevance, culminating in layoffs, financial struggles, and a lost sense of identity.
This is what happens when brands prioritize short-term scale over long-term cultural currency. In contrast, independent surf brands that stayed true to their roots continue to thrive. The lesson is clear: Brands that operate like movements outlast those that operate like machines.
How Quiksilver, Billabong & Volcom Became Cultural Icons
Quiksilver, Billabong, and Volcom didn’t start as corporate empires. They were born from the surf sub-culture, shaped by the ocean, and built by people who lived and breathed that universe. In the 1970s and 1980s, these brands emerged as grassroots movements, small, independent companies making functional gear for surfers who needed durable, high-performance apparel that could withstand salt, sand, and endless hours in the water.
Quiksilver, founded in 1969 in Australia, revolutionized boardshorts with innovative designs that combined style and performance. Billabong, launched in 1973, quickly became known for its high-quality surfwear and grassroots approach to supporting local surf communities. Volcom, the youngest of the three, emerged in 1991 with a rebellious, youth-driven energy that fused surf, skate, and snowboarding into a single movement under the mantra “Youth Against Establishment.”
These brands weren’t just selling clothing but shaping a lifestyle relevant to a generation that craved freedom, self-expression, and connection to the ocean. They built their credibility by sponsoring the best surfers and skaters in the world, backing athletes like Kelly Slater, Andy Irons, and Tony Hawk. Their marketing was raw and authentic, featuring footage of riders pushing boundaries rather than polished commercial campaigns.
Beyond apparel, they invested in the culture of the sport. Quiksilver created legendary surf competitions like the Eddie Aikau Invitational. Billabong’s Pro Surf Series became a proving ground for future world champions. Volcom’s skate films and music collaborations cemented its status as a countercultural powerhouse.
For decades, these brands were the heartbeat of surf and skate culture. They weren’t manufactured identities; they were actual, organic movements. However, the cracks began to show when the focus shifted from culture to corporate growth.
The Fall: Private Equity, Overexpansion & The Loss of Identity
The downfall of Quiksilver, Billabong, and Volcom wasn’t a sudden collapse—it was a slow erosion of identity-driven by corporate expansion, private equity takeovers, and a relentless pursuit of growth at all costs. What started as small, culture-driven brands rooted in surf and skate communities became generic, mass-produced entities chasing market share rather than meaning.
As these brands grew in popularity through the late 1990s and early 2000s, investors took notice. Quiksilver and Billabong went public, raising millions to fund aggressive expansions. Volcom followed suit in 2005. But with shareholder pressure came a shift in priorities. It was no longer about fostering a community or staying true to the culture—it was about hitting revenue targets, expanding distribution, and maximizing returns.
Private equity firms accelerated this shift. After years of financial mismanagement, Billabong was acquired by Oaktree Capital in 2018, which had already taken control of a bankrupt Quiksilver in 2015. The once-authentic brands were merged under a single umbrella company, Boardriders, stripping them of their individuality and turning them into cogs in a corporate machine.
As ownership changed hands, so did the approach to business. Instead of focusing on product innovation and deep community engagement, the brands focused on mass production and aggressive retail expansion. Quiksilver stores popped up in shopping malls worldwide, far removed from the beaches and skateparks where the brand had built its identity. Billabong’s once-authentic surf aesthetic was diluted by logo-heavy merchandising, flooding the market with uninspired designs. Volcom, once the rebellious outsider, became just another corporate label.
The result? A disconnect from the communities that had once championed them. Surfers and skaters no longer saw these brands as part of their world. They had become commercialized, losing the edge that once made them aspirational.
Financial troubles followed. Overextension, declining relevance, and mounting debt led Quiksilver to file for bankruptcy in 2015. Billabong struggled for years before being absorbed into Boardriders. In 2023, Authentic Brands Group acquired Boardriders, leading to massive layoffs—1,400 employees lost their jobs.
Quiksilver’s story is the clearest example of what happens when a brand forgets its roots. It went from pioneering surfwear to being a faceless corporate entity, indistinguishable from any other mass-market retailer. Once a leader, it became an afterthought.
The lesson is simple but critical: Brands built on cultural currency cannot survive by chasing short-term scale. When identity is sacrificed for expansion, the soul of the brand disappears—and once it’s gone, no investment can bring it back.
The New Wave: Independent Surf Brands Staying True to Culture
While Quiksilver, Billabong, and Volcom lost their way chasing mass-market expansion, a new generation of independent surf brands is proving that authenticity still matters. These smaller brands, often founded by surfers and industry veterans, have stayed true to the culture by prioritizing community over corporate growth. Instead of flooding malls with logo-heavy merchandise, they’ve built loyal followings through storytelling, quality craftsmanship, and a direct-to-consumer approach.
One example is Vissla, founded by former Billabong executive Paul Naude. Rather than chasing scale, Vissla focuses on creativity, craftsmanship, and sustainability—core values that resonate with modern surfers. The brand’s marketing is centered on real surfers, DIY board shapers, and environmental responsibility rather than celebrity endorsements or mass-market appeal.
Another standout is Outerknown, the sustainable surfwear brand co-founded by Kelly Slater. Unlike legacy brands that ignored sustainability in favor of fast fashion, Outerknown prioritizes ethical production and premium quality, proving that surf brands can grow without compromising their values.
Brands like Roark and Need Essentials have also carved out strong niches by staying independent and focusing on storytelling. Roark blends adventure and surf culture with limited-edition gear inspired by real travel experiences. Still, Need Essentials strips away unnecessary branding to offer high-quality wetsuits at fair prices—directly to surfers.
What sets these brands apart is their ability to connect directly with consumers through digital marketing and e-commerce. They don’t need hundreds of retail stores to survive. Instead, they engage with their audiences through compelling content, social media storytelling, and grassroots partnerships. Their focus isn’t on selling as much as possible—it’s on creating something meaningful that resonates deeply with their customers.
Rather than diluting their brand by chasing mass-market exposure, these independent surf brands prove that authenticity scales better than overexpansion. They understand that true brand loyalty comes from creating something people genuinely believe in—not simply being everywhere.
The Bigger Lesson: Why Brands Must Operate Like Movements, Not Machines
The stories of Quiksilver, Billabong, and Volcom serve as cautionary tales: brands that operate like corporations are disposable, but brands that operate as movements endure. The difference? Movements create belonging, purpose, and identity—things that no amount of capital can manufacture.
The most successful brands in any industry don’t just sell products; they build worlds people want to be part of. This made Quiksilver and Billabong great in their prime, and it’s what the best brands today—inside and outside of surfing—continue to do.
Take Patagonia, for example. It has never wavered from its environmental activism, even when it meant turning away customers or sacrificing short-term profit. Because of this, its customers are fiercely loyal, not just because they like the clothes but because they believe in the mission.
Or consider Supreme. Despite its massive popularity, it has never sold out in the traditional sense. By maintaining limited supply and staying connected to its skate and street culture roots, Supreme has retained its edge while growing into a billion-dollar brand.
Then there’s Red Bull, which built an entire world around action sports, music, and adventure, making it far more than just an energy drink. People don’t just buy Red Bull; they buy into the lifestyle it promotes.
The key to longevity isn’t endless growth—it’s cultural connection. A brand must stand for something bigger than its products. It has to foster a sense of community, participation, and identity. It has to make people feel part of something exclusive that aligns with their values and aspirations.
This is why independent surf brands succeed, whereas Quiksilver and Billabong failed. They don’t optimize for shareholders; they optimize for culture, connection, and authenticity. They treat their customers as participants in a shared movement.
When brands focus too much on scale, they become commodities. But when they prioritize identity, they become cults—and cult brands don’t just survive; they thrive.
Don’t Forget Who You Are
Growth is essential for any brand, but growth at the cost of identity is a slow death. Quiksilver, Billabong, and Volcom had everything—cultural relevance, loyal communities, and a deep connection to surf and skate culture. But they lost what made them special when they prioritized expansion over authenticity. In their pursuit of short-term revenue, they traded away their cultural currency. And once that’s gone, it’s nearly impossible to get back.
The challenge isn’t whether to grow—it’s how to grow. Brands must scale to strengthen their identity, not dilute it. The independent surf brands thriving today prove that growth is possible without selling out. They stay connected to their roots, focus on their core audience, and expand in ways that reinforce their authenticity rather than compromise it.
A brand isn’t just a business—it’s a belief system. It’s a movement that people choose to be part of. When brands lose sight of this, they become just another product on a crowded shelf. The most enduring brands—whether in surf culture, fashion, or beyond—understand that loyalty isn’t built through mass production and retail expansion. It’s built through meaning, connection, and trust.
The choice is clear: operate like a machine and be forgotten, or operate like a movement and be irreplaceable.