A Break-up letter
Once the heart and soul of Canadian outdoor culture, it’s no secret that Mountain Equipment Co-op has gone through changes. MEC is no longer a cooperative, and has risen from the ashes of financial crisis and COVID as something very different. In the lifecycle of a brand, there is almost always a rebirth that must take place at some point; A shedding of the old image, and like the phoenix rising from the ashes, a brand must reinvent itself to stay relevant and catch the eye of the ever flakey consumer.
For most of my adult life I’ve been affiliated with MEC, first as a head office employee, and then as their first athlete ambassador. I helped build their athlete program from the inside out. But the inevitable time of change came for MEC in 2020, and with this change a divergence between me and the Co-op. We no longer share the same vision. A parting of ways was set in motion and it’s been a slow disentangling ever since. I’m no longer affiliated with MEC in any way - I am a social worker living in northern BC, and I ski and climb on the weekends (and, who am I kidding, a lot of weeknights, too!) I certainly went through a period of mourning as I watched the Co-op change and the people, including myself, who worked so hard for the brand for so many years, be forced to leave.
I think my words might sound harsh, but I’m not intending to slag MEC. MEC had to change, and change fast in order to stay afloat. I don’t want to be that tired voice that throws insults. However, I feel in order to respect myself and my work on behalf of the Co-op, it is important that I make clear where our partnership stands after so many years. But before I share what I learned from my relationship with MEC and what comes next, I feel compelled to reflect on how it all began. Maybe I’m only writing this for myself, but it helps me move on to record the history as well.
In 2009 I landed my first professional job at MEC’s head office. At the time, the Co-op was notorious for hiring internally, so I felt pretty chuffed to be a successful external candidate straight out of University. Four blissful years passed at MEC’s old head office location on East 4th Avenue in Vancouver. But by 2012 my commitment to climbing had become an obsession, and I’d started to dream about life as a full time climber. It was at this time that I also started to dream about what an athlete program at MEC might look like - being perpetually below-the-radar as a world-class brand, it seemed like a stretch that MEC could enter the realm of athlete sponsorship. Even still, I spent time exploring what this might look like for my beloved Co-op. Finally, I was granted some face time with MEC’s then-CEO, David Labastiour, to pitch my idea. Amazingly, he was onboard and the rest, you might say, is history. I left my job as a full time head office employee in July 2012 and became MEC’s first sponsored athlete.
My relationship with MEC as an athlete felt seamless, because it was. I basically moved from one job into another, albeit with a big pay cut. I had the great fortune of already being fully aligned with the Co-op’s ethos, since I’d lived and breathed it in my job for the last four years. It felt natural to become a representative for the Co-op within the broader climbing community. And it was a symbiotic relationship: MEC believed in my athletic pursuits, and I believed in the MEC vision and the products that vision produced. What you saw as you followed along was real.
I was honoured to not only share the gospel of MEC along my journey as a full-time athlete, but also participate in MEC’s product design cycle, something that is very important to me. I take outdoor gear very seriously. To me, gear can enable success in your objective or hinder it. Back then, I was infamous among the MEC designers for hacking up product prototypes in the field. It was not uncommon for me to cut out pockets because I felt they were extraneous. Or there was this one time I returned a proto with the waist duct taped tighter because I felt the fit was too boxy. I’ve always secretly wished I’d gone to school for fashion design, but thanks to MEC I was able to live out my sequestered dreams by being granted so much access to the design process. I stand by the work that I did with the design team at MEC; If you can find a jacket that we had a role in designing, you should buy it - there is no better gear out there at any price point or with any label.
Being a sponsored athlete has given me a platform that has informed who I am, and benefited and hurt me in ways that are too many to count (but the benefits have dramatically outweighed the wounds!) It’s also given me a voice, in the form of this blog and a wonderful social media following. But there is something that has become clearer to me in the last year as I’ve grappled with my separation from MEC; It’s important not to say something unless you have something worth saying. As a sponsored athlete you’re granted a soap box that is supported and promoted by the brand you represent. It’s easy to feel like you might as well use it, but much restraint should be applied in filling the ether with your voice. Do you have something worthwhile to share, something thoughtful, or thought provoking? Are you speaking from a place of true passion and investment? Or are you just regurgitating brand or industry rhetoric? Or saying what someone else has told you to say?
So where does this leave me, post-MEC? It’s unclear to me if I’ve got more to say, or more to do at this point, while being preoccupied with adjusting to life in the north and managing the age-old dilemma of work-life balance. And so, for the time being, while I sort myself out, I leave you…
“A with a hip-hop, the hippie to the hippie
The hip, hip-hop and you don't stop the rockin'
To the bang-bang boogie, say up jump the boogie
To the rhythm of the boogie, the beat” ~ Sugarhill Gang, Rapper’s Delight