Startup hires vets to make flip-flops
NEW YORK: Even though most New Yorkers do not have easy access to a pool or the beach, it does not stop them from wearing flip-flops. The yoga pants set will often wear them around town, while many office workers will use them for their commutes before changing into loafers or heels (of course, there’s always that one guy with the hairy toes who relishes wearing them all day long).
Flip-flops can be quick, comfortable and, when it is hot outside, ventilated. They can also be affordable. (Or not: Tory Burch offers a “carved wedge” version for $78.)
For those who like to buy local, a company called Tidal New York, just outside of New York, is producing simple and sleek flip-flops for $28 a pair. Upscale buyers like Bloomingdales are noticing, as well as several influencers.
“Other flip-flops always leave those red marks or cuts on the top of your feet as they break in,” said Lauren Duhamel, a popular fitness entrepreneur known for her body sculpting classes at Studio B. The Tidal ones, she continued, “are literally the most comfortable and supportive flip-flops I’ve ever worn.”
But perhaps the most surprising thing about Tidal New York is that it is employing veterans returning from war to produce them. The vets do everything from molding the base to printing on the sole.
In April 2014, while Tommy and Tim Gibb were starting their company, Tim read Joel Kurtzman’s book Unleashing the Second American Century. He recalled an intro that said, in the near future, the United States would specialise in technology and not in something like flip-flops.
“We were like, challenge accepted,” Tim said.
As of May 2018, Tidal has shipped over 100,000 pairs of shoes worldwide. Recently its flip-flops were spotted for sale at a Fred Segal boutique in the Los Angeles International Airport.
The sandals, known for their custom designs and bright colours, are sometimes sold in limited-edition batches. Next year, for example, the soles of some flip-flops will feature images designed by artists who live in the five New York boroughs.
Five years ago the Gibbs were at a crossroads in their careers. Originally from a footwear family in Omaha, Nebraska, the brothers, then 20-somethings, brought their expertise to New York and spent a decade working in the industry. Tommy, now 39, was instrumental in starting Marc Fisher Footwear, where Tim, now 36, also worked.
But the industry was changing. China was no longer as cheap as it once was, and labels were looking for new places like Bangladesh and Indonesia to make their products.
Those countries — which did not have impressive track records when it came to factory safety and child labor protection — were not ideal to a couple of idealistic entrepreneurs.
Why go around the world to manufacture shoes in risky and perhaps unethical situations, the brothers figured, when they could control things better in their own country?
The Gibbs decided to look for factory space in the United States. Originally they had considered places around Scranton, Pennsylvania, because there was a labour force there and rent was reasonable.
But the more the brothers searched, the more they realised they wanted to be close to New York. Both of them live nearby, Tim in Hoboken, New Jersey, and Tommy in Manhattan’s Gramercy Park. It was a global fashion capital, so they could get fashion executives from the city to their factory easily.
It was also the ultimate challenge. “If we can do it here, it’s a challenge to anyone out there,” Tim said.
The sandals, they decided, would be durable, comfortable, stylish, and affordable. After leasing a 9,900-squarefoot space in New Rochelle, a 40-minute drive from Tommy’s apartment, the brothers secured a loan from the Small Business Association and developed a manufacturing process that left almost zero waste.
Their Westchester factory is now so clean that some guests have mistaken it for a pharmaceutical company — or a meth lab.
“The first people who came in here asked what we were really making,” Tommy said. “It was like ‘Breaking Bad.’”
The brothers created their own process to make the perfect flip-flop. One piece of equipment pours polyurethane into a mould that looks like a gigantic wafflemaker. They repurposed a Japanese 2D printer to decorate the flip-flops’ soles. The process for this alone was so complex that they patented it.
“It was hell on earth for two years to perfect this,” Tommy said.
Perhaps most important to the company’s mission is its hiring of military veterans. Many vets have started in the factory with entry-level jobs, but some are in management now. Ambition and mobility are encouraged.
In 2014, Tidal New York hired its first employees, including its first veteran, after Tommy attended a benefit for Heroes in Transition, a non-profit that helps provide home modifications, therapy, financial support and assistance dogs for veterans returning from duty.
Now the company has 10 employees, five of which are veterans.
Joseph Dunham Jr, 44, who lives in Queens, served for 16 years refueling aircraft in places like Afghanistan and Iraq. Now he spends every day shaping flipflop straps.
“It’s the hardest part,” he said. “It’s like golf. You have to have the perfect swing to get the perfect result.”
Dunham remembered how terrified he was before starting at Tidal. “I didn’t want to mess up and be the cog in the system.”
Now he says that he cannot imagine working with a more supportive, cohesive team. The veterans often eat lunch together and share stories about their past.
“Businesses offering these types of opportunities to veterans are especially important in New York,’’ said Michael Warshaw, president of Heroes in Transition.
“New York is obviously, as you know, very fast-paced,” he said. “There aren’t too many bases here, so people aren’t around veterans as much, they don’t really think about them as much.”
The brothers said that they would like to expand and open Tidal factories in other states, perhaps California. But the question is whether they can scale their company, make enough profits (their competition: Old Navy flip-flops that sometimes go on sale for $1) and stay true to their principles and processes.
Tommy and Tim are studying companies that have managed to do both, like Ben & Jerry’s which donated ice cream to the Occupy Wall Street movement, among other efforts.
Toms, the Los Angeles-based shoe company, has managed to expand while maintaining its policy that for every pair of shoes sold, another one is donated to a child in need.
“It doesn’t have to be growth, growth, growth, cheap, cheap, cheap,” Tim said. “We are into this idea of responsible capitalism. So far it’s worked.”