I was once told, “If you want to build a big company, go after a big market.” It sounded smart. Logical. Almost too easy.
So in my early days, I tried it. I went after the big categories, the ones that looked shiny on spreadsheets: electronics, home goods, fashion.
And you know what happened? We bled time, money, and energy fighting for attention. It felt like standing in a crowded bazaar, shouting about your product while ten other sellers shouted louder. After a while, you are not selling anymore, you are just hoarse.
The truth hit me in the least glamorous way possible. It was not during a board meeting or a strategy retreat. It was while flipping through sales reports and seeing solid returns on something as unglamorous as dancewear.
Dancewear! Not exactly the category you brag about at dinner parties. Nobody says, “You know who is disrupting the world? The guy selling ballet skirts.” But those customers were loyal. They bought, they came back, and they told their friends.
And that is when I thought: why chase the pie everyone wants, when the slice nobody cares about tastes better?
Years later, I came across Lego’s turnaround story, and it felt oddly familiar. Lego nearly collapsed because they chased everything at once: theme parks, video games, clothing. Then they stumbled on an overlooked niche: adults who loved building Lego sets.
A niche. A weird one. The kind analysts laugh at.
And yet, doubling down on that niche did not just save them. It turned Lego into one of the most profitable toy companies on the planet. Today, their most expensive sets are not for kids at all, they are for grown-ups who never stopped building.
Lego did not win because they chased the biggest market. They won because they obsessed over the one everyone else ignored.
I get it. Niches look too small on spreadsheets. They do not make for glamorous investor decks. And they require patience before scale shows up.
But niches come with three hidden superpowers:
When I look back, some of our smartest wins did not come from chasing giants. They came from serving niches that looked too boring to matter. Soccer gear. Odd home accessories. Even categories people smirked at.
But boring made money. And more importantly, boring built loyalty.
Because nobody dreams of being the “King of Dancewear”… but if that crown pays the bills and funds your next move, you wear it proudly.
If you are building something, do not just ask, “Where is the biggest market?”
Ask, “Where is the market nobody respects?”
Because niches are not scraps. They are launchpads. And the quiet corner nobody notices today might just be where tomorrow’s giant is born.
Regards,
Rupesh
