Orvis is Axing Half Its Stores: Here's the Real Reason Why

Let's get one thing straight. When a 170-year-old company announces it's closing half its stores, it’s not an "exciting new chapter." It's a five-alarm fire. And the statement from Orvis President Simon Perkins, blaming an "unprecedented tariff landscape," is just the smoke they're blowing to hide the flames.

I've read this script a thousand times. A legacy brand, coasting on its reputation, decides to become a "lifestyle" company. They start selling everything from pricey `orvis dog beds` to sweaters your grandpa wouldn't be caught dead in. They forget who they are. Then, when the bills come due, they blame some big, scary external force. Tariffs. The economy. The internet. Anything but their own bad decisions.

This is a classic retail mistake. No, 'mistake' is too gentle—it's a self-inflicted wound born from years of chasing the wrong customer. Orvis spent a decade trying to convince people who live in suburbs that buying an expensive `orvis jacket` made them rugged outdoorsmen. Now, they're gutting the company and calling it a "return to our roots." Give me a break.

The Tariff Scapegoat

Okay, let's talk about the tariffs. Are they real? Sure. Have they impacted retail? Offcourse. But are they the sole reason a company that survived the Great Depression, two World Wars, and the rise of Amazon is suddenly liquidating half its physical presence? Not a chance. That’s the corporate equivalent of blaming the iceberg after you’ve already steered the ship directly into it.

The fact sheet of this slow-motion collapse tells the real story. This isn't a sudden crisis. Orvis has been shedding its skin for years. They laid off 8% of their workforce in 2024. They killed their iconic, 170-year-old mail-order catalog—the very thing that made them a household name. They laid off another 4% of their staff in 2025. Now they're selling their massive Vermont headquarters for less than it cost to build.

Does that sound like a healthy company blindsided by a trade policy? Or does it sound like a business that has been bleeding out for years and is finally admitting it needs a tourniquet? Blaming tariffs is just easy. It’s a faceless villain that requires zero introspection. The real villain is a decade of brand dilution.

Orvis is like a classic rock band that spent 20 years making soulless pop albums to chase radio play. Now that nobody's buying their records, they’re announcing a "back to basics" garage rock tour. The problem is, their original fans have moved on to younger, hungrier bands, and the pop fans never really cared in the first place. Who, exactly, is this new, leaner Orvis for? The hardcore `orvis fly fishing` enthusiasts they ignored while they were busy designing another overpriced `orvis shirt`?

What Even *Is* Orvis Anymore?

I walked into an `orvis store` a couple of years ago. It felt less like a sporting goods outfitter and more like a museum for a version of New England that only exists in Ralph Lauren ads. Perfectly folded `orvis pants` sat next to artisanal dog treats. The air hummed with quiet, expensive reverence. You could almost hear the whispers of "heritage" and "authenticity" being pumped through the vents. In the corner, almost as an afterthought, was the actual `orvis fly fishing` gear—the stuff that built the entire empire.

The company got addicted to the high margins on `orvis clothing` and lifestyle junk. It's an easy trap to fall into. Why bother with the R&D for a new set of `orvis waders` when you can sell a $150 flannel shirt to a guy whose most rugged outdoor experience is walking his labradoodle to a brewery patio?

They wanted to be everything to everyone. They wanted the serious angler buying a top-of-the-line `orvis fly rod`, the weekend warrior buying a vest, and the wealthy retiree furnishing their mountain cabin. In the process, they became nothing special to anyone. They lost their edge. They became… pleasant. And in today’s brutal retail world, "pleasant" is a death sentence.

Now, they say they're refocusing on fly fishing and wingshooting. They’re leaning into their wholesale partners like Bass Pro Shops and Cabela’s. So the plan is to shrink their direct-to-consumer footprint and become just another brand on the shelf at a big-box store? How is that leading? How is that ensuring a "durable brand for decades to come"? It sounds like a managed decline, not a bold new vision.

Blame the Tariffs, Sure

So here we are. Orvis Set to Close 36 Stores by Early 2026. Hundreds of employees, "significant members of the Orvis family," as the press release so coldly puts it, are out of a job. And we're supposed to believe this is a strategic pivot back to their heritage. It’s not. It’s a retreat. It's the consequence of a brand that chased trends instead of trusting its gut, a company that forgot that "heritage" isn't something you can print on a hang-tag. You have to earn it, every single day. Maybe once the dust settles, they'll find their soul again. But I wouldn't bet on it.