Much has been made of Sarah Staudinger’s proximity to celebrity.
The Staud founder is a well-connected Los Angeles native. Her husband is Hollywood superagent Ari Emanuel, the chief executive of Endeavor. Larry David officiated their wedding, and Cher is her godmother. It’s the sort of background that can prompt eye rolls, if not outright scorn, in the industry: a privileged young woman (she was 26 years old when she launched her brand in 2015) with an eponymous fashion label.
“I hate that narrative,” she told The Business of Fashion, before softening her tone. “It doesn’t make the brand, and I’ve made a very concerted effort from day one to not put myself before the product.”
After nearly 10 years, Staudinger has certainly proved that Staud is more than a pet project. If in the early years the brand was primarily known for its bags, ubiquitous on the arms of Selena Gomez, Bella Hadid and other “it” girls, much of Staud’s success today comes from its ability to do multiple things well.
Revenue is drawn equally from apparel, accessories and footwear, and the brand continually produces hits in each. Once it sees an item taking off, it creates new iterations, from offering several heel heights and colours in its Wally boot or new prints and patterns for its beaded Tommy bag. The aesthetic also has range, from the practical — solid cashmere sweaters in staple colours like grey and navy and A-line dresses that flatter a variety of body types — to the bold, like a rainbow-striped rugby sweater or a beaded bag shaped like a mushroom.
“You’ve got your boot that goes with everything and then your fun novelty bag. … It’s that balance of a silhouette that’s quite digestible, but also an animation that makes it feel exciting and new,” said Rickie De Sole, fashion director at Nordstrom, which stocks Staud. “There’s a confidence to the Staud woman.”
And there are now legions of Staud women. Sales are soon expected to cross $250 million annually, growing 30 percent from last year and sixfold over the past five years. The brand is profitable, with earnings before interest, taxes, depreciation and amortisation margins in double digits. While it’s taken in outside capital in the past (early investors include Burch Creative Capital and Jaws Estates Capital), the brand has not raised any money in 2025, and has no upcoming plans to do so, despite reports of a fundraise earlier this year. (Augusto and Staudinger told BoF that an existing investor sold half of his equity for estate planning purposes.)
Countless designers and entrepreneurs dream of building a brand with these numbers. But Staud is also in the zone where many emerging brands stall out; too big to be underground cool or a cult favourite, too small to compete with better-capitalised global powerhouses.
Staudinger and co-founder and creative director George Augusto have a plan to take Staud to the next level. Category expansion will play a big role: This year saw the launch of denim, as well as Staud Sport, a line of workout sets, jackets and dresses. The brand is using collaborations to get in front of a wide variety of potential customers, from St. Regis hotels to Wrangler and Keds. Homewares are on the horizon, as are new stores. A flagship recently opened on Melrose Avenue’s storied shopping strip in Los Angeles, on the same block as hot-spot eatery Craig’s.
One thing Staudinger said she doesn’t need is industry approval. She last showed at New York Fashion Week in September 2023. (Jeff Bezos and Lauren Sanchez, then newly engaged, were in the celebrity-packed front row.) The brand rarely stages its own events; the Los Angeles headquarters provides another buffer.
“We’re not involved in the politics of [the industry],” said Staudinger. “It’s nice when we’re noticed and honoured, but that’s not what we’re here for.”
Doing It All
When Staud launched, Staudinger said she was “just begging people to wear” the clothes. Instead of running ads, the brand gave products to influencers like Leandra Medine, and won fans in fashion tastemakers like Alexa Chung and Kendall Jenner, both of whom were photographed carrying Staud bags.
Unlike most it bags carried by it girls, Staud’s were relatively affordable. (Even today, none retail for over $1,000; one recent hit, the Ollie, costs $250.) Unique designs drew attention. (Its first major success was a leather bag made to look like a terracotta plant pot nestled in a net.) In the logo-heavy late 2010s, Staud had none.
Most early-stage fashion brands stick to one category, but Staudinger said that putting equal focus on ready-to-wear and footwear from the get-go is a major reason why no category outshines another today.
That versatility has become the driving principle behind Staud’s business, with hit products inspiring hit products. For example, the Wells dress, a sleeveless midi with a full skirt, has been a customer favourite since it was introduced in 2017. Over the years it’s been reintroduced in a short, spandex athletic version and as the Wylie, a spaghetti-strap frock with a slightly less full skirt, among other iterations.
“Not everyone is the same person every single day. I might be wearing a cashmere turtleneck today, but next week I might want to wear a fun beaded dress,” said Staudinger. “You can’t pigeonhole yourself into anything. I am a firm believer in fluidity.”
She’s had to defend the strategy. When the brand first dreamed up its beaded Tommy Bag, people told her that introducing a non-leather style would diminish her credibility. Now the $295 bag is not only one of Staud’s best-selling items, but currently sells in 29 variations, featuring beaded illustrations of everything from zebra print to a tin of sardines to the I Heart NY logo, plus alternate designs, such as a wristlet clutch or the “Timmy” bag, with a different strap.
“There’s something very joyful about those bags,” said De Sole.
From Upstart to Established
Staud’s price point — $245 for a pair of jeans, $395 for Wally ankle boots, $450 for a thick cashmere crewneck sweater — has helped the brand pick up new customers who stopped shopping luxury labels after their post-pandemic price hikes.
“She’ll spend maybe $1,000 on a piece from us if she feels like it should cost three times as much,” said Augusto. “As long as we do the job of figuring out a solid price that makes sense for the brand from a value perception, she seems to come along with us.”
For all Staud’s famous fans, the brand doesn’t overtly lean into its Hollywood-adjacent image. Its Instagram page, relatively devoid of recognisable faces, is filled with campaign and product imagery.
And if Staud’s first decade was about building a foundation, from forging a network of wholesale partners to creating a line-up of hero products across categories, its second will focus on sharpening its identity.
Much of that will come from doubling down on the direct-to-consumer business, so the team can better control merchandising. Last year, DTC surpassed wholesale as its primary sales channel; today, 55 percent of sales are direct. Recent efforts have been made to continue to fuel that transition: Denim, for instance, is only sold through Staud’s own channels.
Increasing its brick-and-mortar presence is also a major priority. Staud currently operates 10 shops, including its new 4,600-square-foot-plus Los Angeles flagship. The plan is to add five more by the end of 2026. This month, too, it’ll open a pop-up at the St. Regis Aspen, a continuation of its ongoing collaboration with the luxury hotel chain — a winter capsule collection also dropped last month. Though historically a bit uncomfortable with public events, Augusto said they’re open to doing more in order to have more spaces for customers to connect with one another in person.
“We are interested in scale,” said Augusto. “We want to grow and have additional product categories, but maintain the DNA of the brand, because that has not changed from day one.”
In that sense, it helps that the brand’s two co-founders are still at the helm. They credit their successful partnership to complementary skill sets and the fact that they don’t try to change one another. Plus, Augusto said, “We may be partners, but I recognise that at the end of the day, it says Staud.”
It’s a partnership they plan to continue for many years to come. Both Staudinger and Augusto said that as of now, they have no desire to sell — and may never.
“We didn’t build this to exit,” said Staudinger. “The financials have given us that opportunity to take risks and do what we want. We’re trying to build something that outlives us.”
