You probably don’t actually own any Lycra
What happens when the product becomes bigger than the brand
We “hoover” the carpet, fix things with “sellotape”, “Photoshop” our pictures, and order a Coke. Except – we probably don’t. Most of us use a vacuum cleaner on our floors, buy self adhesive tape, use generic photo editing software and enjoy a cola-flavoured drink. But while this might be more accurate, it also feels unnecessarily pedantic. We all know that these brand names have become shorthand for the product itself.
Lycra, beloved of Yogis, cyclists and athleisure wear enthusiasts everywhere, is another case. Before the 1960s, rubber was used to give clothes their stretch. It was sweaty, heavy and prone to slowly sagging over time – not ideal for tight-fitting clothes. In 1958, a DuPont chemist invented Fiber K – a spandex fibre that could stretch to five times its original length and snap back to its original shape again. It started a revolution in clothing – and eventually, a catch-all term for any stretchy, synthetic and (sometimes unwelcomely) tight fabric.
Just as not all vacuum cleaners are Hoovers, not all stretchy garments are real Lycra. In the UK, it appears on clothing labels as ‘elastene’; and in the US, ‘spandex’. In our age of AI slop, the name’s survival feels even more improbable. It’s not a surname, nor an abbreviation. It was, in fact, generated at random by an early computer. So how did its name stick?
The first mover advantage
Economists talk about the ‘first mover advantage’, the edge gained by being the first major player in a market. You don’t need to invent the idea (Hoovers were not the first vacuum cleaners, nor was Coca Cola the first brown carbonated drink), but you do need to define the market.
This early leadership can come with powerful advantages. You cement your way of doing things as the industry standard and get in early with key suppliers. Even better is the fact that you reach consumers first. Brand recognition builds early, and loyalty alongside it. Once they get established, these early leaders can lock customers in. If you bought an iPhone in 2007, you would have felt a strong pull towards a MacBook, an Apple Watch and AirPods so that your devices could sync perfectly.
Sometimes we even remain locked in when there is no practical reason at all. In the 1970s, Pepsi launched the Pepsi Challenge: blind taste tests where participants chose between Pepsi and Coca-Cola without knowing which was which. Pepsi often won in comparisons, but in real-world consumption Coca-Cola remained resolutely more popular. When we are craving a Coke, even a nicer-tasting Pepsi doesn’t cut it.
Sometimes, being the first mover cultivates a sense of superior quality. If you are the original, competitors and generics feel like poor copies. Sellotape leans instinct heavily. In the UK, its packaging stresses “Since 1927”, “Golden Original” and “The Nation’s Favourite”. But heritage only goes so far, despite its strong brand identity, Henkel (the company behind Sellotape) has only a 20 per cent market share.
Default language
Sometimes, becoming the default term does translate to dominance: we Google things because Google dominates both our language and our search market. For Lycra, this wasn’t the case. It was designed to disappear seamlessly into clothes, and over time became the generic term for the kind of stretchy fabric we were all familiar with. But it lacked the cultural weight of Coca Cola or the heritage feel of Sellotape. As rivals appeared on the scene, customers didn’t mind whether their clothes were genuine Lycra or generic elastane.
In March, the Lycra Company filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection after years of declining demand, competition and an unpredictable tariff environment. It hopes to continue operations and spring back.