1990s

The 1990s began with Ray-Ban riding high from the previous decade’s success, but the brand soon encountered headwinds. Fashion in the early ’90s took a turn away from the flashy excess of the ’80s. The grunge movement, for example, favored a dressed-down, anti-fashion look – flannel shirts, unkempt hair, and if any eyewear, maybe cheap thrift-store shades or John Lennon-style round glasses, not necessarily premium Ray-Bans. Additionally, wraparound sport sunglasses became all the rage in the ’90s, popularized by brands like Oakley, Arnette, and others. These had futuristic looks and could be perched on one’s forehead (a style many adopted) – something not as feasible with Ray-Ban’s more traditional frame shapes . As a result, Ray-Ban’s classic styles started to seem old-fashioned to younger consumers. By the mid-90s, if you wore Aviators or Wayfarers, you were either embracing a retro look or you were an older holdover; the cutting-edge crowd had moved to sleeker, more aggressively modern designs.

Notable is that even though Ray-Ban had multiple iconic models, none were truly new in the ’90s. The Clubmaster had some vogue in the early ’90s, partly thanks to its appearance on Denzel Washington (as Malcolm X) in the 1992 film Malcolm X – those browline glasses fit the period setting and sparked a short-lived mini-revival of that style. And 1992’s cult hit Reservoir Dogs famously had its ensemble cast don sleek black suits and black Ray-Ban Wayfarer sunglasses, evoking the Blues Brothers and keeping Wayfarers in the cinematic conversation . But these moments were exceptions. Overall, Ray-Ban’s once-ubiquitous presence in media diminished as film and TV costumers sought more contemporary eyewear for characters. For example, the hit series The X-Files (debut 1993) put Agent Mulder in unbranded wireframe shades when he wore any; Seinfeld played a joke by having George Costanza pick out ridiculous lens-less eyeglass frames. The vibe had shifted.

That’s not to say Ray-Ban disappeared – far from it. The Men in Black phenomenon in 1997 was a last hurrah of sorts: Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones wore the Ray-Ban Predator (a newer Ray-Ban model with a wraparound shape) as part of their uniform, which caused a spike in sales for that model – reportedly increasing Ray-Ban’s Predator sales by 300% in the year after Men in Black . It showed that with the right push, Ray-Ban could still catch the zeitgeist. The Predators were sportier and more in line with ’90s tastes, indicating Ray-Ban was trying to adapt with at least some new designs. But one style success couldn’t counteract broader trends.

By the late ’90s, Ray-Ban faced another issue: the brand had become overexposed and undervalued. Bausch & Lomb, in an effort to cash in on Ray-Ban’s fame, had allowed the sunglasses to be sold in all manner of outlets during the decade – from high-end department stores down to gas stations and convenience shops. Ray-Bans could even be found spinning on cheap sunglass racks for $20-$30 a pair by the mid-90s . This mass-market approach backfired; the once-premium image eroded as Ray-Ban became ubiquitous and, worse, associated with low quality due to some shoddy mass-produced batches. As one analysis put it, “these flimsy frames and cheap lenses” flooded the market and hurt Ray-Ban’s reputation . In trying to be everywhere, Ray-Ban was at risk of becoming just another pair of sunglasses.

When Luxottica took over Ray-Ban in 1999, they clearly had a plan. The Italian company – led by founder Leonardo Del Vecchio – was known for acquiring struggling eyewear brands and restoring them. For Ray-Ban, Luxottica’s immediate strategy in 1999-2000 was to pull the brand out of the bargain bin. They famously slashed the number of points of sale, “dumping 13,000 stores” that were diluting the brand’s prestige . Gas stations and convenience store racks lost access to Ray-Ban overnight. Concurrently, Luxottica discontinued many of the cheaply made versions. They moved all Ray-Ban production to Luxottica’s own high-tech factories in Italy, closing B&L’s outdated manufacturing lines that had been turning out subpar product . Essentially, they hit reset on quality and distribution.

The late ’90s transition also saw Luxottica refocus Ray-Ban’s image. Advertising in 1999 (and into the early 2000s) shifted back to highlighting Ray-Ban’s heritage and timeless appeal. One could sense the brand pulling back from chasing trends and instead preparing to reassert itself as an authority. Luxottica knew that to rebuild Ray-Ban, they had to reestablish it as cool and premium. This meant short-term sacrifice of volume for long-term brand equity. Indeed, Ray-Ban’s availability dipped in 1999-2000 as Luxottica recalibrated – a strategy that paid off not immediately, but a few years later when the brand’s rebirth kicked in fully.

In the context of the 1990s, it’s interesting: the decade ended with Ray-Ban at its nadir yet on the cusp of a revival. Many consumers might not have realized the ownership change, but they soon noticed that Ray-Bans were no longer dirt-cheap and everywhere. Instead, they were once again something you’d find at a proper eyewear boutique or a Sunglass Hut (which, conveniently, Luxottica also owned). This cleansing of the palate, so to speak, would allow Ray-Ban to enter the 2000s with a clean slate.

Financially, the sale to Luxottica for $640 million was sizeable but, as it turned out, a bargain for Luxottica given Ray-Ban’s future performance. For Bausch & Lomb, it was a bittersweet end – they relinquished an iconic brand due to short-term difficulties. For Luxottica, it was an opportunity to apply their marketing prowess to a sleeping giant. The stage was now set for Ray-Ban’s dramatic comeback in the new millennium, once the brand could shake off the dust of the ’90s and reconnect with consumers on fresh terms.