Not often do lines form outside San Francisco retail shops on a random weekday. But on Tuesday, a line stretched down the block outside Baggu’s flagship branch on Valencia St. before it even opened, as scores of 20-somethings jostled for a chance at the uber-popular bagmaker’s freshly-launched collaboration with Peanuts (yes, the beloved Charles Schulz comic).
Inside, the spare store — plain shelving and minimalist signage, to better highlight the main attractions — was flooded with young folks vying for brightly-colored, Snoopy-branded swag. Isa and Sophia Storti, 23-year-old twin sisters visiting from Edmonton, Canada, had straight-up planned this day of their family trip to San Francisco around a jaunt to the Baggu store.
“There’s only, what, two store locations for Baggu?” Isa told Gazetteer SF while waiting in line. (Editor’s note: There are four: two in New York City, and one that just opened in L.A. in addition to the Valencia St. outpost.) “I was like, ‘Okay, we have to come to the big store,’ and it just happened to be the day that they're doing the Peanuts collection.”
Because of the brand’s newfound global popularity — such is the power of TikTok consumerism — the Mission store has become a tourist attraction in and of itself. People waiting in line hailed from LA, Arizona, and even France, looking to scope out in-person the products they’d seen on social media. These drops are a big deal, even if they’re not quite anticipated with the fervor of, say, those of the streetwear maker Supreme at its mid-2010s peak.
It’s a reflection of the global mini-cult that has formed around Baggu online and IRL, a fascinating thing to see from a brand that counts San Francisco as its home base. When so many San Francisco-based tech worker-core fashion brands are drab as hell — think the dull creature comforts of Allbirds, or the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it neutrality of Marine Layer and Everlane — the combination of utility and just plain fun of Baggu’s printed nylon bags feels rare. An SF brand with its finger on the pulse (as with this latest collaboration, which taps into Gen Z's ongoing obsession with Snoopy) feels even rarer.
Even with some of its latest missteps, like its newfound dalliance with generative AI, Baggu may be the one mainstream brand based here that has it.
“It's really, really good,” 28-year-old San Francisco resident Joanie Shalit tells me about her Baggu crescent bag, matter-of-factly. “I think the size is impeccable and it's really, really cute. It's kind of like a green, conscientious brand, too, so I'm trying not to get too much stuff.”
As Shalit and I browsed for a couple of minutes together (my editor had asked me to pick up a three-pack of Peanuts zipper pouches), she idly guided me through some of the buzziest items in the drop. One bag with a busy Snoopy print, she told me, “is the perfect amount of overstimulated.” A grocery shopper-esque tote with a Great Pumpkin-esque Snoopy print was already gone on the shelves, but a cashier was mercifully doling them out to anyone who asked.
Shalit didn’t have time to chat for long. She showed me an extensive list of things she was tasked with copping for a friend who couldn’t make it to the drop. I, too, had tasks to carry out: My editor’s bags acquired, I grabbed some pink Snoopy packing cubes for myself, and a gift for a pal’s upcoming birthday.
Later, on the 16th St. Mission BART platform, I stepped up next to two stylish young people, both cradling their Snoopy-branded hauls for the day. As we got on the train together, they told me they’d changed their vacation plans to be first in line for the drop.
