Mytheresa, based in Munich, went public in the U.S. in late January, raising about US$350 million for the company.
4 min
Bricks-and-mortar fashion boutiques have been in a tough spot during the pandemic. Small stores, after all, aren’t set up for social distance. Online retailer Mytheresa has been able to fill the void. The website caters to wealthy shoppers looking for help in finding their next designer handbag, pair of shoes, clothing item, or accessory.
Mytheresa, based in Munich, went public in the U.S. in late January, raising about US$350 million for the company. The listing grew out of the bankruptcy of Neiman Marcus, which purchased Mytheresa in 2014. The small-cap has a market value of about $2.2 billion.
Mytheresa stock (ticker: MYTE)—technically an American depositary share of parent company MYT Netherlands Parent—was recently trading just below its $26 initial-public-offering price after having jumped to $36 shortly after the debut. The stock could recover those losses and more in the coming months.
“They are at the intersection of two higher-than-average growth trends in retail: luxury and e-commerce,” says J.P. Morgan analyst Matthew Boss.
Luxury buyers have been slower to adopt e-commerce. Before the Covid-19 pandemic, some 12% of global luxury sales happened online, compared with a 20% share of overall retail. The gap is closing. A recent study by consultancy Bain estimates that the share of luxury goods sold online could nearly triple to more than 30% by 2025.
Meanwhile, the overall luxury market is growing by about 7% annually.
The tailwinds put Mytheresa in an enviable position, and the company should get a further boost from its expansion in the U.S. and China, which are currently just 10% of sales each. (Europe was 60% in its latest fiscal year.) The company now has collections for men and kids, and it could expand into categories like jewellery and furniture in the future.
Mytheresa isn’t your typical money-losing tech start-up. The company, which reports in euros, earned €6.4 million ($9.9 million) in its latest fiscal year on €449 million in revenue.
Sales have grown an average of 22% over the past two fiscal years, while adjusted earnings before interest, taxes, depreciation, and amortization, or Ebitda, have grown at a 30% clip. For the fiscal year that ends in June, analysts are forecasting revenue growth of 25%, to €560 million. Analysts, who track adjusted earnings, expect the company to make €30.4 million this year, up about 60% from the adjusted figure last year.
“We are dealing with high-net-worth individuals who like to spend money—that’s a great customer base, and our core asset is this customer,” says Mytheresa CEO Michael Kliger.
The customer focus has helped the company earn a consistent profit, with a gross profit margin of about 45% and an adjusted Ebitda margin of about 8%. Other e-commerce players at Mytheresa’s early stage of growth have been years away from turning a profit.
If Amazon.com is the “Everything Store,” Mytheresa has taken the opposite approach. The site carries about 200 brands, fewer than luxury e-commerce rivals Farfetch (FTCH) or Richemont’s (CFRUY) Net-a-Porter. A recent search for “black dress” on Mytheresa’s U.S. site yielded just over 2,000 results, versus more than 7,000 at Farfetch.
Mytheresa’s most loyal shoppers get access to personal shoppers, styling and concierge services, and other perks like invitations to exclusive designer events and parties.
CEO Kliger says there’s a fine balance between presenting products in a way that’s helpful to shoppers and overwhelming them with an endless assortment. His company is focused on curation and more-abstract shopping desires, he tells Barron’s.
Customers looking for a specific Burberry coat, Chloé handbag, or pair of Gucci sneakers are better served buying directly from the designer.
Mytheresa’s website and app, now set up for spring and summer, are currently promoting multibrand compilations including “sandal season” and “talking-point pieces.”
The unique edit, to use the fashion-industry parlance, stands out to customers. Some 90% of Mytheresa customers surveyed by Cowen analyst Oliver Chen said they were likely to recommend the site to a friend, and 75% of them browse it weekly. Nearly 50% of Mytheresa’s customers spend at least $30,000 on luxury goods annually, the survey found.
Investors have been far more stingy when it comes to Mytheresa stock. The shares trade for 2.8 times this year’s estimated sales, versus 8.2 times for Farfetch and 4.5 times for The RealReal (REAL)—both of which are losing money.
Mytheresa could rally as investors reconsider that valuation gap. J.P. Morgan’s Boss has a price target of $38 on the stock, 50% above its recent close.
For now, Mytheresa stock is a luxury play at a bargain price. The sale is unlikely to last.
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The Australian leather house has opened an immersive four-day pop-up in Manhattan, unveiling its Bloom Collection and redefining what a product launch can look like.
Following the successful launch of its Palais Collection, MAISON de SABRÉ has unveiled a new modular handbag system offering more than 720 styling combinations.
Randy Boyagoda’s new novel, “Lords of Serendipity,” delivers a biting satire of cheating, politics and dysfunction across modern universities.
5 min
Administrative cowardice. Rampant cheating. The soaking and scamming of undergrads and grad students. Performative wokeism. Intensifying competition for international tuition dollars from an expansive China.
These are either the latest dire headlines about American higher ed or the myriad subplots of “Lords of Serendipity,” an ambitious new novel by Randy Boyagoda. Unlike most campus fiction, its scope extends well beyond the cloister of the liberal arts classroom to whammy the entire university system, from its financial model to its function within a globalized economy. Along the way, it skewers its lightning-rod targets with a precision too sharp to be considered entirely fictional.
That its author is not only well-versed in satire, having written four other novels in the genre, but is also a professor of English at the University of Toronto and an experienced college administrator, further blurs the lines between comic fiction and brutal fact. It’s the kind of no-holds-barred book only a consummate insider would know to write—but only one who is also conveniently outside the American university system could get away with writing.
“This is someone who’s got the inside dope on what can go on at universities, especially with international students, and what kind of con games are going on,” said Margaret Atwood, a friend and fellow Torontonian.
The novel, like Boyagoda himself, is often very funny—even as the dilemmas its characters face read as tragedy. Its cast includes the bickering members of a Sri Lankan hotel cleaner’s family, insecure American freshmen, dead-end third-tier college professors and their highflying Ivy League counterparts and dispirited university functionaries. An old-fashioned Dickensian tale, it sweeps across continents and campuses, from a classic liberal-arts college to a stand-in for Harvard University to an urban technical school to the dilapidated buildings of a state-run university in Sri Lanka.
“I’m a joyful person,” Boyagoda said in an interview, though he prefers to see his outlook on academia as “hopeful” rather than optimistic. He smiles and laughs frequently. He bikes everywhere. He derives energy from his students and from his four daughters, ages 14 to 20. They help him and his American wife, Anna, also an educator, care for Boyagoda’s father, an immigrant from Sri Lanka who has dementia and lives with the family.
The germ of the novel came to Boyagoda during the pandemic, when he was serving as a vice-dean. An urban legend was circulating about a statistics grad student selling passing grades to international students. The cheating scheme itself may well have been apocryphal, but it felt tantalizingly plausible.
“As a novelist, it stayed with me,” Boyagoda said. “Who would sell grades for a stats course? Why would someone buy grades? What’s motivating them? Why wouldn’t the university be doing something about it?” What he didn’t want to do, he explained, was write “another novel about a creative writing professor and his drama with students.”
In addition to writing novels—the first of which was a finalist for Canada’s prestigious Giller Prize; he’s written eight books in total—Boyagoda teaches literature full-time. For his students next semester, kids raised in a purportedly “post-literature era,” he’s assigning three 700-page novels, he noted mischievously, books by George Eliot, Ralph Ellison and Kiran Desai.
On RateMyProfessors, students remark on Boyagoda’s heavy assignments, tough grading and distaste for cellphones, but also hail his “comedy.” When alerted to these reviews, Boyagoda laughed. “Guilty as charged,” he said.
“Randy’s one of those people in academia who is very well educated but doesn’t have an ounce of superiority about him,” said John Irving, who frequently guest lectures in Boyagoda’s classroom. “It’s amazing to see how willing students are to talk in his classrooms, how little afraid they feel of being mocked or put down—he gets complete candor out of them.”
Negotiating competing interests seems to come naturally to him. Like many college campuses, after the Oct. 7 Hamas attack on Israel, the University of Toronto was embroiled in protests, encampments and discord; part of the school’s response was to convene a working group on civil discourse. Boyagoda was put in charge, serving for two years. It’s the kind of thankless task many professors would flee from, but Boyagoda relished the prospect and thinks the group, which is ongoing, made progress.
He has since pivoted to another formidable academic concern: the waning prestige of the humanities. In July, Boyagoda became the director of the Jackman Humanities Institute and special advisor on the humanities to the dean of arts and science. This fall, he is starting a series of gatherings he calls the Dead Book Club. (Dead writers feature heavily among his favorites: St. Augustine, Dante, William Faulkner, Evelyn Waugh, Saul Bellow.)
“The goal is to encourage students to read for its own sake and have conversation for its own sake,” Boyagoda said. “The importance of the humanities will be revealed to those who participate.”
“Lords of Serendipity,” which publishes next week, reflects Boyagoda’s commitment to the pursuit of knowledge: “I’m supposed to say I learn more from my students than they do from me, but no,” Boyagoda said. “I enjoy sharing my excitement and joy about literature and ideas. There are these moments when you are teaching and you can see someone’s face change because they didn’t know something and then they did. That moment when you’re actually watch someone enlarge themselves is deeply satisfying.”
In literary circles, Boyagoda is often referred to as a Catholic novelist, a description he embraces. “A novelist willing to give shape and voice to contemporary religious experience is needed,” Boyagoda said. “I understand myself as a Catholic novelist, provided that I’m not only a Catholic novelist, I’m also a South Asian novelist and I’m a Canadian novelist. I don’t want to be captive to one label.”
His characters, he said, are subjected to what he calls “Graham Greene character situations.”
“They are trying to do good in a fallen world and realize the most they can do is less harm than someone else would do in that same role,” he explained. “They have to accept they are complicit in something that provides some good thing to others. It’s a very Graham Greene way of thinking about sacrifice.”
The campus green they inhabit is a febrile zone in which lofty ideals and cynicism regularly collide. It’s a place where a traditional holiday college celebration is now an occasion for political protest. Kids freely police one another inside and out of the classroom with social media their constant, ready weapon of choice. International students, knowing their family’s financial futures hinge on their degrees, operate in terror of failure and deportation.
Early readers of the book include Gary Shteyngart and Junot Diaz, both of whom have taught at universities and written comic novels. They each contacted Boyagoda midway through to say, in essence, “You nailed it.”
As biting as “Lords of Serendipity” can be, Boyagoda’s faith in higher education remains undaunted.
“It’s absurd that we live in societies that make the decision to take people between the ages of 18 and 22, when they are most physically capable of contributing to our nations and communities, and tell them, ‘Go away for four years, and read and learn and have conversations,’” he said. “I want students to be aware of what an incredible privilege that is.”
Corrections & Amplifications
Randy Boyagoda is a special advisor on the humanities to the dean of arts and science at the University of Toronto. An earlier version of this article incorrectly said he is a special adviser to the dean of humanities. (Corrected on Sept. 2)
