Why I’m walking away from my startup
3 internal objections I couldn't ignore no matter how badly I wanted this to work
TL;DR
* I just pulled the plug on my startup, a sock brand called This Is Not Fashion
* I'd love to say it was completely rational - But it came down to resistance. I identified 3 objections that I just couldn't overcome
* Continuing is futile. The opportunity cost is too big
* This is the second of a 2-part series. Read part 1 here
In April 2025, I ran a Kickstarter crowdfunding campaign for my sock brand This Is Not Fashion. I wanted to see if I could generate enough pre-sales so I could put in an order of 6,000 pairs of socks. I had set the goal to S$13,354, which was more or less equal to the cost of production, plus gave me some room for marketing.
But, with only 4 days left, I decided to cancel the campaign… I only managed to raise S$1,616, barely 12% of the goal. I’ve written before about the 15 learnings from my failed Kickstarter campaign on Reddit, so I won’t rehash that here.
In this article, I wanted to share the 3 objections I’m facing that prevent me from continuing with the brand. But more importantly, why I can’t overcome them.
Objection 1: Prototyping the Dyson way is unrealistic for me
My first major blocker: I can’t prototype precisely and fast enough. And if you care about making a great product, that matters. A lot.
I’ve never been interested in adding more noise to an already noisy industry. Sure, I could’ve just sold whatever my manufacturer sent over. But that’s not how I work. I don’t like putting inferior products in front of people that I know are not solving their problems. My goal is innovation.
That makes being able to test methodically and quickly crucial to see if quality is improving. Basically, how inventor Sir James Dyson built his dual cyclone vacuum cleaner. I’ve become very inspired by reading his 2021 autobiography (he ended up making 5,127 prototypes).
With overseas manufacturers, I couldn’t take this approach.
I couldn’t test methodically
To test well, you need to know exactly what you’re testing. You need control over the input variables. You need to understand the process well enough to tell if a change worked or if you just got lucky.
I’ve tried to improve every sock sample I asked for by becoming obsessed with the sock-knitting details. I asked both manufacturers and ChatGPT tons of questions, and even immersed myself for a whole week visiting factories in Zhuji, China, and attending a sock conference in Shanghai.
But over time, I learned that the complexity of sock-knitting is huge. It’s not just the material, but it’s things like how the yarn is spun, how tight the knitting is, if the supporting yarn comes in through the primary or secondary “feed” etc. etc. A lot of detail!
And as I’ve seen with any new industry I’ve entered: There’s also a lot of jargon, which I truly believe only obfuscates communication. As a new socks brand, I can totally understand why you would get completely lost in this mess of terminology. (And not to forget - and not the manufacturer’s fault - there’s often also a language barrier that needs to be crossed.)
This has all happened to me:
When I ordered the branded TENCEL™ lyocell yarn, I would get 50% lyocell (generic brand) and 50% cotton instead
When I asked for only lyocell, nylon, and elastane to be used, polyester still ended up in the cuff of the sock
If I spoke about spandex (the American brand name for elastane), somehow manufacturers would see this as a short-hand for covered yarn (elastane wrapped with nylon)
Even though they have the best of intentions, I just could not trust a manufacturer. I could not trust that they understood what I asked for.
I hear you thinking: Michael, maybe that’s because you're new to the industry. And to that I say: You’re right.
But over time, my requests became more sophisticated and precise. The problem remained though: I thought I gave them the right input, but they would interpret it differently anyway.
One of my theories is that manufacturers have no incentive to care. As long as the socks are cheap and roughly correct, they consider the job done.
So, with a middleman in between, I couldn’t run experiments methodically. And without clean experiments, I was just guessing.
I couldn’t move fast enough
The faster you can test, the faster you can get to the product you want. I guess I’m not breaking your brain here.
Nevertheless, after 11 months, I only got 5 samples made. Only 5 moments where I could see the impact of adjustments and learn from feedback. Of course, this was partly my decision. Samples cost money (don’t forget shipping) and I’m a solopreneur (I can only do so much).
But this was also partly out of my control: The manufacturer has a turnaround time. They need to interpret your design, they need to find time to run the sample making, and then the sample needs to be shipped to you. Lead times were communicated as 7-10 days, but on average, it was closer to 30 days (including payment settlement).
I think aiming for 1 sample a day is not a crazy ask, if the goal is truly to innovate socks. But with a 3rd party manufacturer that’s far away and has other projects to run, experimentation time of 1 month is too long.
Now stop complaining - Can I overcome this objection?
Absolutely.
This means more starting capital. This probably means giving up on a bootstrapped business (I have to fundraise).
I also need to convince my family that I’m going loco-loco about socks. To test more precisely and rapidly, I need to:
Move to China (or maybe Malaysia) and work side-by-side with a manufacturer. Even for just a month
Or buy my own sock-knitting machine and build a prototyping lab at home
But for this, I need to have sufficient conviction... Which leads me to my next objection.
Objection 2: I wouldn’t buy my own product
I went through my sock drawer the other day and counted what socks I owned before I started This Is Not Fashion:
That made it really clear: I wouldn’t even buy my own brand:
In Singapore, I’ve pretty much always worn no-show socks. I did start experimenting a bit with the Gen Z craze — they supposedly only wear crew socks — but for the most part, I only did that when I wore long pants
I like colorful socks (prints), but they are not that important to me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t let my mom secretly influence my sock selection
TINF was about sweat-wicking. I have not really had a huge issue with sweaty feet in Singapore (t-shirts are a completely different story)
Can I overcome this objection?
Yes, I can.
Not building for myself is actually not how it started. Long story short: I wanted to make colorful socks with a pocket. 😆 While that triggered me to start, I learned over time that people still have a lot of silent sock problems. The Top 3: sweaty feet, socks slipping down, and socks that wear quickly.
So, in order to address those concerns, I made product decisions that were justifiable, but created a product that I would no longer buy.
Of course, I can undo that. I can go back to selling multi-color pocketed socks. But I’ve come to realize it’s a gimmick. It’s a hype. To keep driving demand, you need to continuously come up with new ideas and/or partnerships. Making socks become a seasonal product instead of an evergreen basic. And now better understanding the problems the sock industry is facing, that’s exactly not what I wanted the brand This Is Not Fashion to stand for.
Objection 3: Socks are an irrational purchase, and I’m not the guy to fight that war
At some point, I realized: I’m overthinking this. They are just socks. I can’t reason my way into someone’s sock drawer.
1. Most people don’t (want to) think about socks at all
Socks are one of the most “set-and-forget” items in a wardrobe. You have been wearing them your whole life and don’t really question them.
Most people buy socks reactively. You’re already in a mall, maybe at a Uniqlo, and you toss a few pairs into your basket, because you remember that the ones in your drawer have holes. It's an incidental purchase.
Or there’s the utilitarian. The person who buys 20 of the same pair at once. They never match socks (they just toss them in the drawer) because they don’t want to think about it. Every morning, they grab 2 and they’re good to go. They’re looking for a practical and cheap solution.
That makes convincing people they have a problem (subpar socks) a tall order. Let alone that solving that problem with my solution (a premium TENCEL™ lyocell sock that’s sweat-wicking and durable) is worth their money.
2. People view socks idiosyncratically
The brand is called “This Is Not Fashion”. I did that because I wanted to see where I could bring a sock brand that doesn’t rely too much on the aesthetics.
But the truth is, a lot of people care only about how their socks look. Take this example: I designed the sock to have a taller cuff so it would stay up on the calf. I thought that would improve the functionality. But then I got the feedback that it made the sock less female. It’s true - Female socks generally do seem to have smaller cuffs.
Another great one is the purchasing journey. In my interviews, I’ve often heard that people need to judge sock quality in person and do so by testing how soft they feel. Manufacturers know this. They add fabric softener after knitting to create that initial wow effect. Sadly, after the first wash, the softener wears off, and the true quality shows. But of course, by then, you’ve already been tricked…
Can I overcome this objection?
All in all, people have very different perceptions about what makes a “great sock”. It’s more of a strong-held opinion than a verifiable truth. That’s a difficult basis for product education, let alone a pitch for innovation.
But I can’t blame anybody. Pre-TINF, I honestly didn’t even know or care about the difference between fabrics and why they mattered.
It’s clear, though, I can’t just ignore these personal preferences. It’ll be an uphill battle that I won’t win if I’m not tapping into human psychology. And I feel like this doesn’t come naturally to me.
Am I walking away too early?
I’ve been doing this for close to a year now, nearly full-time. So I’ve definitely put in the hours. But have these hours been well-spent?
As I wrote in Part 1, I think it’s about building conviction through placing bets intentionally. And I believe I’ve done just that: With every goal I set myself, I gradually increased the stakes. I sold out on 28 pairs of socks in December - It only made sense to multiply that 4 months later by ~200x to 6,000 pairs for the Kickstarter campaign. I had to see and try.
Will I regret walking away from this now? No, I feel like I’ve tried everything I can with my skillset and in line with my values.
Am I still obsessed with solving this problem? No, based on the objections, my interest has subsided. Then why continue pushing? The opportunity cost is too big - I can apply my energy elsewhere.
In fact, the only thing I regret is not prototyping faster. I think I would’ve made my decision to quit a lot faster.
How I’m feeling
It can’t always be the brains that do all of the talking. 😆
This is how I’m feeling:
Sad - I had to kill another one of my “babies”
A bit frustrated - now what?
Happy - I learned a lot and enjoyed myself a lot
Some regret - I spent almost 11 months on this
But mostly proud - this is my best failed startup so far (highest intent per hour spent)
What’s next
Honestly, I don’t know.
I’m thinking of doing some “Clarity Calls” (founder coaching) on the side. Help fellow entrepreneurs cut through the noise. If that sounds interesting:
And maybe do some idea generation and see where my curiosity takes me. 🤷🏻
To anyone in a similar place
I hear you. I hope that by reading this article, you see that you’re not alone.
Also, I hope you realize it’s perfectly fine to give up. I know the word has become very stigmatized.
As long as you feel you’ve tried everything you could.
As long as there are no regrets.
As long as you didn’t let fear rule your decision-making.
You don’t have to keep on pivoting.
Good luck ✌️