EoB #5: Yeti Coolers

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the concept of “rich texts” thanks to incredible culture writer, Anne Helen Petersen. For me, one under-explored but deeply rich text is the world of premium and luxury coolers - particularly as seen in the South. Texas in particular is home to 3 popular brands, including the ubiquitous Yeti, which promises to keep your food and drinks cold for up to a week. Sure, it’s (very) hot in Texas, but might there be a deeper reason that so many living fairly suburban lives want such high-performance products?

Igloo - The original Texas ice chest

One of the oldest, most iconic cooler brands, Igloo, was born in swampy, sweltering Houston. They began in 1947, manufacturing metal containers to provide water for the men working the oil fields. Then, in the 1960s, they were the first to create a molded plastic cooler that was lighter and more resilient than the previous galvanized steel versions.

Igloo’s brand is anchored by several unique silhouettes that almost everyone is familiar with: the Playmate (aka “America’s lunchbox”), the Picnic Cooler, and the Barrel of Fun water jug. (Technically the Barrel of Fun is only the name for the 2-gallon version of Igloo’s jug with a spout but, at least in my experience, the same name is often used for the 5and 10-gallon versions too.) These products are so memorable that Igloo claims to be “the most recognizable brand of ice chests in the US.”

There are, of course, other legacy brands founded in other states - Stanley, Thermos, Coleman - and aside from Igloo’s handful of unique designs, they mostly offered versions of the same big metal or plastic box with handles. The coolers of yore kept juice boxes, sodas, and your parents’ beers cold long enough to get through a day at the beach or an afternoon at the pool. They were heavy and not especially aesthetic, but they got the job done. And though brands did make durability and insulation the focal points of their ads, the sales pitch was mostly that it would keep your food cold for the day, maybe 2, while camping.

Yeti - Rugged gear for a comfortable life

In 2006, Yeti came on the scene with a high-performance cooler designed by two Texas brothers with a penchant for outdoor activities. Yeti quickly achieved Kleenex status, with the company name also becoming shorthand for any and all of its products. Backcountry explorers loved the cooler’s ability to keep ice for a week and bought in despite the eye-watering price point. Conversely, bros bought into Yeti because of the cost. What better way to subtly flex on your friends than by bringing your pristine, white, $450 ice chest to the party, all under the guise of simply appreciating the brand’s high quality and commitment to the outdoors? A new level of status symbol was unlocked for masters of the Patagonia vest.

As a (semi) brief aside, there is an interesting inverse relationship between practicality and luxury. Impracticality is, in itself, a luxury. Most outdoor brands, even those with a more premium aesthetic, offer their products in colors and materials that hide dirt and wear. Yeti positions itself as a brand for the most serious outdoor recreationists but its flagship product is pure white with a gloss finish - the perfect encapsulation of this phenomenon. (In b4 the reply guys point out that white reflects sunlight and thus contributes to ice preservation - choosing white over a darker color will increase ice retention roughly 7%, or a half-day longer than the 7-ish day maximum. It’s not really about the ice.)

Yeti is the outdoor sports equivalent of a luxury handbag. You could get a functional purse from any brand. But when it’s about communicating status, belonging, and success through the bag, you buy from a luxury brand. No one is buying a $6,495 sequin purse designed to look like a stack of hotcakes because it’s practical. It’s a little bit for the artistry and wow factor, and a little bit just to show you can.

Yeti is the same. All of their products are objectively significantly more expensive than their competitors, and some of their products are bordering on impractical, like their largest cooler, which costs $1,500 and weighs 93lbs completely empty. Because (say it with me) impracticality is a luxury.

There’s so much more I could go into here about the way Yeti mimics the tactics of luxury brands. To save space, I’ve condensed some of my thoughts:

• Both Yeti and legacy luxury brands have an absolute dearth of diversity in their marketing. Presented without comment: Yeti’s Brand Ambassador page.

• There’s a hint of old-money, shabby-chic style in the trend of covering one’s Yeti with stickers. It’s reminiscent of Ransom, the ne’er-do-well brother in the film Knives Out, whose costumes featured expensive clothing with holes and signs of wear to signify his nonchalance towards his wealth. (This trend originated with tech workers adding stickers to their MacBooks and now extends to all brands of computers, water bottles, and coolers.)

• Yeti offers a taste of their aspirational brand to the masses through more affordable cups and mugs in the same way that luxury brands produce mass-market perfume and cosmetics. I pointed out in my pre-EOB launch post, that a Yeti travel mug and a Gucci rollerball perfume have approximately the same manufacturing costs and the same retail price point. As AdAge put it, “If you can’t afford $350 for a grizzly-proof [cooler], you can always settle for a hat.”

• Yeti’s marketing exudes a sense of calm, relaxed comfort despite being centered around living an active, outdoors-focused lifestyle. Everyone is clean, models are seated or standing but rarely in motion, and beer is in glass bottles, easily opened with the cooler’s built-in bottle opener. (The impractical luxury of a bottled IPA in a national park!) No one is arguing with their partner because they can’t get the gotdamn rain fly attached to the tent or light the camp stove. They’re too busy making backcountry hot tubs for maximum relaxation.

RTIC - The strong, silent type

While Yeti was a category creator, in 2015 enterprising competitors realized that Yeti didn’t actually have much of a proprietary concept and anyone could, with a bit of effort, bulk purchase identical products from the same international factories. Another set of Texas brothers figured they could source and sell identical products for half the price, still reaping insane margins. They started RTIC Outdoors (née RTIC Coolers).

RTIC Outdoors is a fascinating copycat brand, competing with Yeti exclusively on price. They position themselves as a cooler that’s “overbuilt, not overpriced.” RTIC initially spent little on promotion, relying heavily on word of mouth and the power of their pricing. By 2017 they had amassed over 1 million Facebook followers, gaining a cult following as the “Yeti dupe.” Their comparative strategy was a bit too effective though. Yeti took notice and dropped a lawsuit in their laps, forcing them to settle with an undisclosed payment and cease selling the identical designs. (Yeti has since also sued Igloo for IP infringement for creating water bottles they feel are too similar to their Rambler line.)

There’s little to dissect here in terms of advertising because RTIC essentially (still) does none.

Lord willing and the ice don’t melt

There are now dozens of other competitors out there that offer similar products: Pelican, Coho, Orca, and more. We have, for all intents and purposes, reached peak cooler culture. At this point, it’s difficult for brands to come up with new, innovative ways to store ice and beverages. Most brands have resorted to releasing new colorways each season and doing unique brand partnerships (Igloo excels at this).

Part of the problem with selling ultra-durable goods, however, is the marketplace’s natural cap. The products are slow to degrade or need replacement, so you can only sell so many before you’ve reached saturation. Brands must niche down with laser focus to stay profitable and relevant. Coho tries to make the case that “Your cooler doesn’t have to be a status symbol.” I would argue, it does; the key is which status it’s a symbol of.

• Igloo is for the nostalgic. They win when they lean into their brand heritage. Their entire Retro line is designed to tap into their audience’s core childhood memories of Little League and summer camp.

• Yeti is for the label-conscious. They win when they align their brand with being the best - whether it’s fishing, hunting, or tailgating, their audience wants premium and isn’t afraid to pay for it (or let others know they paid for it). They’ve embraced being a luxury lifestyle brand with clothing and additional outdoor accouterments like their $300 camp chair (cup holder sold separately) and $400 iron skillet.

• RTIC is for the pragmatic deal seeker. They win when they double down on price comparison. As Costco knows, there’s something to be said for capturing the hearts and minds of the deal-driven customer.

I fancy myself an RTIC sun with an Igloo moon and Yeti rising which is, perhaps, why I own products from all three. I love a little luxury almost as much as I love a bargain. (A $200 tailgating blanket is still too rich for my blood. RTIC, call me when you make the $40 dupe!)

No matter which brand you align with, may your rotomolded plastic be light and your drinks be cold. Cheers, y’all.

The Rich Text of Coolers: An Appendix

• If you’re in the market for an avant-garde sequin purse at a (slightly) more palatable price point than the Judith Leiber pancakes, might I suggest this $1,200 bottle of Kikoman soy sauce?

• The popularity of metal water bottles and hard-sided coolers has created an entire ancillary cottage industry of sticker designers. I’m obsessed with this one I got on Etsy featuring a grackle eating a tortilla chip.

• Paradoxically, many “ultra-outdoorsy” products on the market aren’t Interagency Grizzly Bear Committee-certified - a necessary designation if you’re considering bringing a food storage container with you to camp in most National Parks, National Forests, and managed wildlife areas. If you’re not familiar with IGBC certification, I am thrilled to be the first to tell you about it. The committee determines whether a product passes by conducting a “live bear test using captive grizzly bears” who get to maul the product. (There is also a less exciting, alternate certification process in which the product passes a technical certification.)