After months of turbulence, chest-puffing, talks of ludicrous £1m bonuses and closed-door meetings, Mike Ashley, the billionaire retail tycoon everyone loves to hate, has put himself forward to take over as CEO of the floundering fast-fashion retailer Boohoo.
Although nothing has been confirmed yet, the founder of Sports Direct says he is “all in” when it comes to turning around the online brand’s fortunes, and is looking to spend more time in Manchester, where it is based.
But it begs the question: stakeholders aside, does anyone really want to see a Boohoo revival?
I, for one, certainly don’t. Boohoo clothing leaves a lot to be desired: mostly made from synthetic materials, frayed edges, split seams and wonky cuts come as standard, from what I can tell.
In its heyday during the pandemic, when online shopping surged, the brand – which launched in 2006, and was aimed at 16- to 30-year-olds – had a reputation as a place for pieces you could buy dirt cheap, wear once and then bin. Which is an outrage given the climate crisis we face. I can’t understand why anyone would want to shop there.
For years, the clothing site has been shrouded in scandal. In 2020, it was hit with modern slavery allegations, after a report found that workers in Leicester making its clothes were paid as little as £3.50 per hour. It was also accused of putting the same workers at risk during the Covid-19 pandemic, as its factories continued to operate during lockdowns. Against this backdrop, the government launched Operation Tacit, a multi-agency investigation into working practices within the garment industry.
John Lyttle, current CEO of the Boohoo group, issued a statement in 2021, outlining “that it has never been our intention to tolerate any form of exploitation, nor will it ever be tolerated”. He also said that the company was working on “responsible sourcing, compliance and ethical trading”.
In five years, Boohoo’s share price has collapsed by almost 90 per cent. Does Ashley really believe it’s ready for a revival?
Now, I’m not a snob. I understand that, for many, the appeal of shopping at Boohoo is the price tag – but there’s a clear reason for it being so cheap. People who buy fast fashion get a false impression that they are “saving” money. They may end up adding more items to their basket and spending just as much as they would at an ethical, sustainable brand. It’s quantity over quality.
It seems to me that this business model also preys on vulnerable people – especially since the introduction of “buy now, pay later” finance schemes, such as Klarna. Ashley himself wanted to install a Frasers Group-owned alternative at Boohoo, a clear acknowledgement that there’s opportunity in other people’s debt. There is no consideration for the shopper. While it might help them to buy their desired items, it can lead to them being trapped in repayment schemes with hefty interest rates.
Then there’s the hollowing-out of our high streets to contend with. For a while, there was indeed a trend favouring online retailers over physical stores but shoppers have started returning to the idea that in-person is best. You can try items on, you can speak to staff, avoid the faff of Evri returns, and benefit from the experience of shopping.
Yet, it is still a sad thing to walk down a British high street these days. Beyond key cutters and vaping lounges, there’s little in the way of shops. Even on London’s Oxford Street – once the number one shopping hub in the country – things look bleak.
Every time I get off the Tube there, I feel a pang of sadness, looking at the now-defunct flagship Topshop store. Since 2021, the three-storey haven has remained closed to the public, as American candy shops pop up around it. The giant Ikea that was earmarked for the space still hasn’t opened.
Here’s an idea. Rather than Mike Ashley injecting his considerable cash, time and energy into brands like Boohoo, could he not bring back a high-street brand once beloved and cherished by us Brits – Topshop?
It was an affordable destination for young people, always on trend and a lot more sustainable than it was ever given credit for. I, for one, think we’re just about ready to have it back in our lives. How about it, Mr Ashley?
