In Wellington, where the wind hums with stories of the past, a recent post on the Wellington Live Facebook page ignited a wave of nostalgia. The question was straightforward yet powerful: “A clothing brand worn back in the day this gen wouldn’t know of🎯.” Within days, 1,500 comments poured in, each a snapshot of 80s fashion in the capital. Posted in April 2025, this query became a portal to a time of bold styles and Kiwi pride. Consequently, this story stitches together those memories, spotlighting Wellingtonians’ voices and their love for forgotten brands, as the city’s sartorial soul comes alive.
The 80s were electric in Wellington. Cuba Street buzzed with music, and fashion was a canvas for self-expression. Among the brands flooding the comments, Stubbies shorts stood tall. These snug, Kiwi-made shorts were everywhere, from the Wellington Sevens to backyard barbecues. “I’d strut in my Stubbies, wind or no wind,” one commenter laughed. Indeed, Stubbies were a badge of local pride, stocked in shops like James Smith’s. Their mention sparked grins, proving they were more than clothes—they were a lifestyle.
However, other brands stole the show too. Elle Veeze’s comment, “Treks and Nomads! And definitely the more tags the better…,” got 90 reactions, capturing the love for this quirky NZ brand. Treks and Nomads made rugged jackets and trousers, perfect for Wellington’s wild weather. Locals recalled piling on tags—colourful, dangling logos—as a status symbol. “My Treks jacket had six tags; I was chuffed,” Elle wrote, stirring memories of Kelburn campus strutters.
Meanwhile, Lou Hydes’ comment, “Kung fu shoes,” drew 111 reactions and 20 replies, sparking chuckles. These lightweight, slip-on shoes were a hit for their odd charm. “Wore them to Courtenay Place pubs—terrible choice,” Lou quipped. The replies piled on, with mates joking about their flimsy soles. Yet, their popularity showed Wellington’s knack for embracing the eccentric, turning cheap shoes into a cultural quirk.
Similarly, Kelz Clark’s memory of “Bata Bullet sneakers—mine were yellow and brown and had clear soles.🥳🏃♀️” earned 50 reactions. Bata Bullets were a 80s staple, flashy and bold. Kelz’s vivid description—yellow and brown with see-through soles—painted a picture of teens sprinting through Hutt Valley. “I thought I was the coolest,” Kelz added. Such stories tied Wellingtonians to their youth, when sneakers were a ticket to swagger.
Tina Mills chimed in with, “Not a brand but bubble gum jeans,” sparking nods. These bright, stretchy jeans were a fad, worn tight and proud. “My pink pair screamed 80s,” Tina wrote. Though not a brand, bubble gum jeans defined a moment, spotted at gigs in the Town Hall. Their mention showed how trends, not just logos, shaped Wellington’s style.
Mark Armstrong’s comment, “Wrangler jeans. They had a factory in Wainuiomata back in the day. Tatra Leather Goods,” added depth. Wrangler’s tough denim was a favourite, made locally in Wainuiomata. “My Wranglers lasted years,” Mark noted. Tatra Leather Goods, a lesser-known name, supplied belts and bags, often sold at Kirkcaldie & Stains. These Kiwi brands grounded Wellington’s fashion in homegrown pride.
Shopping in 80s Wellington was an adventure. Kirkcaldie & Stains on Lambton Quay was the place for splurges—Treks jackets or Wrangler jeans. James Smith’s, a humbler spot, stocked Stubbies and Bata Bullets. “I’d beg for a detour to James Smith’s,” one commenter recalled. These stores were social hubs, where teens swapped gossip and eyed new stock. Thus, fashion wasn’t just bought; it was lived.
The comments revealed more than brands—they told stories. A pair of Kung fu shoes worn to a Cuba Street party, yellow Bata Bullets flashing at a school dance, or bubble gum jeans at a Crowded House gig—these were milestones. “My Wranglers saw me through first dates,” Mark shared. Such tales wove a tapestry of community, binding Wellingtonians across decades.
Why do these brands linger? Many, like Stubbies and Wrangler, were Kiwi-made, a source of pride in a changing economy. “We wore our NZ brands like flags,” one commenter said. Today, with fast fashion ruling, that local spirit feels rare. Yet, the post’s 1,500 comments suggest a revival could work. Modern Stubbies, with sustainable fabrics, might fly off Cuba Street shelves. Treks and Nomads could return as eco-chic outerwear. “I’d snap up Bata Bullets again,” Kelz declared, echoed by many.
Reviving these brands isn’t easy. Gen Z, glued to global trends, might shrug at Kung fu shoes. But Wellington’s love for the unique—think vintage markets and indie shops—offers hope. A Wrangler pop-up in Wainuiomata or a Stubbies stall at Harbourside Market could draw crowds. “We’d queue for that,” Lou predicted. The post’s buzz shows a city eager to reconnect with its past.
In the end, the Wellington Live post was more than a question—it was a celebration. From Treks tags to bubble gum jeans, Wellington’s 80s fashion was bold, local, and unforgettable. These 1,500 comments prove nostalgia is a powerful thread, stitching the city’s heart together. So, next time you spot a retro jacket or faded jeans, smile. Wellington’s style, like its wind, never truly fades.