It’s all a Facade (Which is Probably Good)

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Vintage television displaying an image of two people fishing by a pond, with trees and grass visible in the background.


by Kirk Deeter

Have you noticed the marketing shift in fly fishing from how things perform to how things look and feel? I think that’s a phenomenon. And it’s probably a good thing, on a number of levels.

First, fly fishing is a pursuit that, by its very nature, involves intentionally simplistic tools. A stick. A string. A spool.

Of course, we’ve evolved way past most of that, with good reason. The stick is now made of high-performance aeronautic grade graphite, with resins that keep it strong and light. The string…could you even imagine drying and treating a silk line after every time you went fishing? Thank goodness for coated fly lines (probably the single greatest technology advance in the history of fly fishing)! Reel braking systems that can stop a truck are cool, but–let’s be honest–in 99.9% of the fly-fishing world, total overkill. I don’t know how much more techno-speak mumbo jumbo the average fly consumer is going to buy.

Which is why so many of the reels you see these days are marketed as much on aesthetics as they are on the guts that are inside them. The latest example I noticed comes in the from the new Redington, Grande Limited Edition, ArtistSeries “Heavyweight Champion” collaboration reel with Alana Louise. I want one. I don’t really care how the reel works: I think Alana’s art is cool.

I think maybe the soft goods sector is the one swimming in the other direction. After all, that’s been all about designs from the get-go–tech is the new frontier. Maybe now the difference between the blue shirt I like because it keeps the sun off me and matches my pants and the one I want to buy is that the second one is “tactical.” It must have ninja-like powers, or help deflect fallout from a thermonuclear explosion.

Then again, you could just slap the logos of a sexagenarian band, over half of who are either dead or octogenarians, and see how that flies. While the competition mocked, and half the market rolled its eyes, the other half bought it all.

I’ve long felt you can’t really judge a book by its cover, and maybe selling product on looks alone runs counter to fly-fishing ethos. But in this day and age, when people want to be part of a community, when they’ve been priced out of the tech war, when they just want something they’re proud to wear, or cast, or crank–especially when there’s a cause connected to the aesthetics–yeah, that’ll work. – Kirk Deeter

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4 Comments

  1. A couple of thoughts, Kirk. I think aging has a lot to do with the accurate observations you make. Older, and either more financially secure, or less financially secure in their purchase decision-making process. No middle anymore. In the journey, I have finally come back to my original “Fly Fishing Culture on the Skids” approach I started with – back in the 2008 Great Depression. It seems to me to be fair to try and review the “good gear,” and at the same time, try and review the “affordable gear” as well. And we all know, affordable can be very good gear. And we know it (cheap TEMU) can be junk too. I guess your post struck me because of my recent video on a great pair of Walmart fishing pants – you could even call them “fly fishing pants” if you want … and well under the $100-dollar barrier most of the name brands have broken through this year. Lastly, we still have yet to feel, in our pockets, the full effect of tariffs. I believe the retail landscape will be changing because of that – soon. I hope I an wrong.

  2. Well stated. The general aesthetic of fly fishing lends itself to personal expression amidst technical capability. Does the Grande have all the capabilities of comparable models? Yes, but the noted artistic impression creates a dutiful resonance with the user, allowing that personal expression to create an emotional/personal bond. I, for one (working in the retail/travel environs) and being a former guide and long-time conservationist, believe this makes a great anchor to support the foundation of stewardship. The more personal touches we create with aesthetics, the greater the bond in our activity and desire to protect the places we dip our flies.

  3. As always, I enjoy hearing your takes! Personally, I’ve always thought we’ve been on awfully thin ice when criticizing anybody who gets excited about the aesthetics. After all, when viewed from a number of angles, fly angling appears to be an entirely aesthetic endeavor. We aren’t fooling anybody when we attempt a studied fixation on tactics or performance and pretend to abhor any appreciation of the artistic aspects.

    Me, I’m a shameless gear magpie, but I’m also still conflicted about it. Part of me really doesn’t care about the colors or etchings. Part of me is proud that part of me doesn’t care. Part of me does think it would be sorta cool to have a pretty matchy-matchy rig that makes me smile every time I take it out. Part of me feels ashamed for sorta caring about aesthetics. Part of me knows that it’s perfectly fine to derive pleasure from fine craftsmanship and attractive designs, especially within the context of a sport that is, if we’re being real about it, fundamentally aesthetic. And so it goes.

    I suspect that I’m not alone.

  4. Brands that create an emotional attachment to their customer base win. It’s as simple as that.

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