Founded in the early 1980s by Vuu Khai Thanh, the major footwear brand began as a small manufacturing facility before becoming a company with its own product line and a few dozen workers specializing in rubber sandals.
As demand shifted from durable to stylish, Biti’s advantage of extreme durability gradually eroded. It coincided with the entry into Vietnam of major global brands and Chinese products offering diverse designs at low prices.
The burden lay on Quyen to renovate the company. A series of upheavals – a failed startup, power clashes with her father on how to run a business empire and the shock of losing her husband – compelled her to stop, confront herself and revisit the fundamental question of "ultimately, what am I living for?"
In a conversation with VnExpress, Quyen shed light on the behind-the-scenes operations and struggles at one of Vietnam’s most iconic companies.
– Looking back on your life to this point, how do you see that journey?
– I imagine my life as a spiral. At each stage, I grow in a different way: sometimes expanding strongly, sometimes slowing down, but always moving upward.
The first stage was childhood, accumulating a foundation to enter life. The next stage was self-affirmation by building my own brand and then leading my first project at Biti’s. After that came about four years of an existential crisis and upheavals. Then came the success of Biti’s Hunter (a new brand targeting young customers), which gave me an important foundation: confidence in myself.
From 2018 to now has been the journey of stepping beyond myself along with more than 10,000 colleagues, transforming and changing the corporate culture. For me, that is one of my greatest achievements, especially the Happy Biti’s project.
– What was your childhood like, being the eldest daughter of the founder of Biti’s?
– "Born with a silver spoon" – that’s how people describe me. When I was in school, I was shy if others found out I was the daughter of the owner of Biti’s. I just wanted to blend in with my friends.
My childhood was materially abundant, but my spiritual life was rather poor. In the post-war period, everyone was lacking things, material needs took priority, and spiritual life received little attention.
My father was no exception. He grew up in a family of 10 siblings, all of whom went abroad, leaving only him in Vietnam. He built himself up from nothing, relying entirely on his will and abilities.
My father was hot-tempered but also deeply loving. His love was "tough love" – spare the rod, spoil the child. I felt like he trained me as a warrior. As the eldest child, I always had to set an example for my younger siblings.
At the age of five or six, I knew how to swim but didn’t dare to. One day my father pushed me into the pool. I panicked, but then I managed to swim. That way of teaching was repeated many times throughout my life, similar to how he later handed me the position of CEO at Biti’s.
– When did you realize that you would have to continue in his path?
– From a very early age that was the path chosen for me. I had no choice. My father always determined that his children would continue the business, so for me the question was not whether I would take over, but how I would do it.
During high school summer holidays, and even while I was in university, I worked at the company just like any other worker.
After high school I went abroad to study chemical engineering because I thought the footwear industry involved a lot of chemicals and that I could help my parents. After graduating, I returned to Vietnam and immediately joined the family business. My first job was an export marketing worker.
But at 26 I decided to start my own business.
– What motivated you to start your own footwear brand when you could have taken over at Biti’s?
– When working as a subcontractor for foreign companies, I realized that I was always forced to play by their rules. At that point I asked myself: if they can do it, why can’t I?
I decided to start my own brand, Gosto, to see how far I could go.
At that time I actually had no clear idea about my path. I only knew one thing: I did not want to become a second version of my father – a leader who dominates through force. I had no other role model. I did everything based on what I believed was right.
Gosto went through a period of good development. Each time we launched a new collection, 70% of buyers were returning customers. Although the brand was well received, it seemed that my parents’ recognition was still the most important thing to me.
At that time my mother said: ‘Your business is too small.’
Looking back, it was true. Gosto’s revenue was only about 1% of Biti’s. Wanting to prove myself, I decided to expand rapidly.
But my management system could not keep up. Inventories piled up, forcing us to offer discounts to clear stock. That was when I realized a very basic truth: fashion that relies heavily on discounts cannot be sustainable. In the end I decided to pack up my personal dream. That was a very big lesson.
I also learned another thing: If the owner does not have a strong inner core, it is very difficult to build a sustainable business. Under the pressure of trying to escape my parents’ shadow, I was shaken by just a few words. Looking back that period may have been my way of rebelling.
My parents did not fully support my startup, but they gave me the authority to do it. I am very grateful for that. Many successors in other family businesses are not given the power to do what they believe is right. Without that period I would not have been able to truly appreciate what my parents built for Biti’s: a legacy formed through immense sweat and tears.
– When you returned to Biti’s, what was your first feeling?
– As a young person, I felt extremely small in front of what was an empire of thousands of people. When I imagined having to shoulder such a massive organization, I felt afraid.
My father built Biti’s on a very disciplined, even ‘masculine’ culture; he was always decisive and tough. I think he once wished I had been a son to take on this career. Transferring leadership to a female leader was a major change. He never said it outright, but many times he felt I was still ‘soft’ and not decisive enough.
The most intense period was when I led a project on standardizing data and driving Biti’s digital transformation. I initiated the project because I saw that the company had many branches and large inventories, while internal systems lacked transparency and accuracy.
The challenge was that digital transformation is not just about technology, but about changing habits. Employees had to operate according to the system in everything from inventory and production to sales, accounting and finance.
After six months the team completed the system. I decided to implement it and completely cut off the old system, running both in parallel for only about a week. That very week there was an intense backlash with my father concluding that my system was inadequate.
The climax was a nationwide meeting of the staff. In a fit of anger, my father dismissed the entire IT team, keeping only one person. My mother and I walked out of the meeting feeling as if we might leave the company.
– What did that moment leave with you?
– I was extremely worried because I could not imagine where the company would go if the entire system was scrapped.
I was also choking with anger at being dismissed after putting in so much effort and dedication into getting the system running in six months, while elsewhere similar projects took four to five years.
A cold war in the family lasted an entire week. Once he calmed down, my father admitted that he had made a hasty decision.
As for the dismissed team, they were resentful but understood my father’s style. I had to persuade them to complete the system before handing it over. Whether by luck or fate, the entire team was later recruited by a competitor. Biti’s then had to rebuild a new team.
For the next four years I only participated in a maintenance role. I understood that the "core" inside me was not yet strong enough to break through.
– How did the conflict with your father affect you?
– At 31 I fell into the biggest existential crisis of my life. I viewed everything very negatively and saw myself as a victim. I asked myself ‘Why was I born into this family, forced into this company, and made to endure those looks and pressures?’
I was so immersed in those emotions that I could no longer see anything good in life.
At the time I did not understand why just one incident could push me to such an emotional abyss.
I later realized that for 31 years I had lived entirely according to a predefined script measured by my parents’ standards: to be rich, to be capable, to be successful. I spent an entire year just thinking ‘Do I still want to continue living like this?’
Later a friend gave me the Dalai Lama’s book ‘The Art of Happiness.’ One sentence in it stayed with me: ‘The purpose of life is happiness.’ That statement was completely different from the values I had been taught since childhood.
At first, I was skeptical. I thought that may be the Dalai Lama’s purpose, not mine.
But I decided to go into it to test it myself. As an engineer, I only believe something when there is evidence. Eventually I realized that if one has gratitude, happiness will grow.
Born into a materially abundant family, my ‘mind’ had grown accustomed to taking good things for granted, while my ‘eyes’ were trained to focus on shortcomings.
Then I began practicing one thing every day: writing down five things I was grateful for, even when it felt very superficial.
As I changed my perspective I began to see many more positive things in life.
– During that period what gave you a sense of support?
– Just as I realized that the purpose of life is happiness, I met my husband.
He was 11 years older than me and was a tremendous support during my existential crisis. He helped me reshape my thinking and worldview. He was optimistic and full of love, and I absorbed a great deal from that energy.
But just four months after we married he was diagnosed with cancer. Sixteen months later he passed away. That was the most difficult period of my life.
– Having just emerged from a crisis, you lost a husband who helped lift you out of negativity. How did you get through that loss?
– At home, I had once been a sheltered daughter, but I was forced to face reality and mature when my husband fell ill. That was when I realized I was also capable of caring for someone.
That journey was extremely painful, but I am deeply proud that I was strong enough to accompany him to the end.
After arranging my husband’s funeral, I stayed in the house where we had lived together in Hanoi. During those days I was like a ‘zombie,’ waking up and functioning normally, but with a constant struggle going on inside.
The hardest part was waking up every morning. My awareness was pulled back to the present, forcing me to face a reality I was not ready to accept, and that was when the pain was most intense.
His presence remained everywhere around the house, from the furniture to the eight pots of wild orchids he had hung up. He told me once that every season the flowers would bloom in a different color so that I could admire all four seasons. That was his way of showing care, knowing that I loved flowers.
I had grown accustomed to a life of caring for him. When he passed away I lost my sense of purpose. But I realized that, if I continued to focus on my own pain, I would never escape it.
I gave myself two months to grieve fully. When the time was up I booked a ticket back to HCMC and returned to work. The pain did not disappear, but I forced myself to stand up and move forward.
– If you consider those upheavals as life lessons, what did you learn?
– It was a process of accepting impermanence. Whether at the peak of one’s career or life, misfortune can happen at any time. What matters is learning to accept it. That upheaval forced me to grow up.
Six months after he passed away my world view changed significantly. I cherished everyone I met, understanding that tomorrow they might be gone. Being present in this moment is incredibly precious.
I set three great aspirations for myself: to meet the Dalai Lama, to meet Thich Nhat Hanh and to go to Bhutan to study the Gross National Happiness model.
Between 2015 and 2017 I fulfilled them one by one. That was also when I returned to work and opened the next chapter with Biti’s Hunter.
– When you returned, why did you choose Biti’s Hunter as the main project?
– After the upheavals, I wanted to give birth to something new for Biti’s as a way to refresh the brand and rejuvenate myself.
Observing society and consumer behavior, I saw two major changes: young people were wearing sneakers more and social media was developing very rapidly. At that time Biti’s also needed a push to return to the market. I believed I could leverage new platforms, especially social media, to do marketing differently from traditional approaches.
We formed an entirely new team with expert support for Biti’s Hunter. For the first time, Biti’s strongly embraced music marketing and social media, trends that were still very new at the time. They proved their effectiveness.
After the campaign, Biti’s Hunter sneakers, especially the models featured in the campaign, quickly sold out. Biti’s Hunter later accounted for about 30% of the company’s total revenues.
However, marketing success also brought operational challenges. Seeing a surge in demand, we ramped up production, only to result in an inventory buildup. This forced Biti’s to overhaul its entire supply chain operations, from demand forecasting and production to distribution.
That was the moment when I truly returned, both renewing the brand and refining the entire operating chain.
– How did you persuade your parents to invest heavily in marketing and make changes to distribution channels?
– By ‘showing the way,’ proving it with numbers and concrete achievements, project by project.
I had to persuade my mother with small but clear results. She agreed. With my father, it was harder. But my parents shared one very important trait: They did not interfere in how I worked and I was fully responsible for the results.
– What do you see as the key factors in the success of Biti’s Hunter?
– I think it was the convergence of timing, conditions and people.
At a time when sneakers were becoming popular and social media was flourishing, we chose music marketing. Son Tung MTP (one of Vietnam’s most popular singers) also needed a product that would create a buzz. The music video had a traditional aesthetic while the sneakers were very modern, creating a strong contrast. These elements were difficult to plan in advance.
As for myself, I think I only contributed about 30% to the success. My role was to raise the flag, gather the right people and give them the space and conditions to do what they believed was right. I supported and protected them so that they could be creative to their fullest extent.
I also learned the lesson that if a business wants to grow it must do something new. We continue to experiment, with Helio, a brand for teenagers that aims to build a youthful and vibrant community.
– What does the success of Biti’s Hunter mean to you personally?
– I see it as great fortune. After Biti’s Hunter, I suddenly became a hero in the company. People’s perceptions of me changed completely.
As for my parents, there was never any praise. I am used to that.
In 2018 my father announced he would hand over the position of CEO to me. There was no prior warning, and he gave me just two weeks to think it over.
Before responding, I asked clearly about his expectations. He wanted three things from his successor: to uphold the Biti’s brand reputation, ensure the company does not incur losses and care for colleagues, creating the best possible working environment for everyone.
In fact, I did not intend to accept the job initially. Everything was too sudden. Biti’s also had many capable senior leaders, and I understood clearly that this was a frontline position demanding many sacrifices.
In the end the person who persuaded me was my mother. She said that people in the company could have a better working environment if I led. That aligned with my life values.
– On taking up the mantle, how did you plan to fulfill your father’s expectations?
– Five months before I became CEO I had signed a partnership with Ha Vinh Tho, former director of Bhutan’s Gross National Happiness Centre, to reform the company. Beyond revenues and profits, Biti’s began to put employee happiness as a core focus.
I believe that only when individuals are happy can an organization be sustainable. I was determined to change the corporate culture from fear and rigid discipline to happiness and efficiency.
My personal experiences showed me that an organization cannot go far if a leader is not strong within.
From an employee’s perspective, a culture based on fear may make people work, but it cannot make them stay, be creative or take the initiative.
Biti’s came into existence in a post-war context, when discipline and command were the only ways to move workers from agriculture to industrial production. In an environment where discipline was paramount, where subordinates had to obey and mistakes were punished, the natural human reaction was to withdraw.
As Biti’s began to have more young employees, I clearly saw the generational mismatch. While the 1970s and 1980s generations were accustomed to obeying parents and superiors, the 1990s and Gen Z demanded meaningful work and deeper connection. If the enterprise continued to operate through control and fear, we would not retain young people nor build a team with enough energy to go the distance.
– How is happiness implemented and measured in a manufacturing enterprise like Biti’s?
– We teach happiness skills to all employees. At the leadership level, Biti’s organizes retreats to align on one principle: an enterprise is only sustainable when happiness and effectiveness go hand in hand. Leaders are responsible for creating conditions for employees to learn and develop holistically so that they can contribute their best at work.
At the employee level, we select about 35 people every year to participate in happiness training programs, focusing on three core connections: with oneself, with others and with nature. Alongside this are small but regular practices such as short meditation sessions before meetings, mindful meals and sharing circles.
At year-end all employees take part in surveys involving more than 100 questions spanning nine groups of indicators such as health, mental well-being and living standards. Areas with lower scores are allocated budgets for improvement the following year, and involve income adjustments, financial management training and healthcare programs. The 6,000 people at Biti’s have been trained in happiness skills.
This approach requires discipline, but the effectiveness is very clear: Our retention rate of key personnel is about 95%, while revenue continues to grow steadily in double digits, reaching VND3.6 trillion (US$137 million) in 2024.
– If one day Biti’s is no longer run by you, what would you like to leave behind?
– For me that legacy is a culture of happiness. As a Buddhist, I understand that for more than 2,500 years, humanity has always grappled with how to reduce suffering and live more happily.
For Biti’s, a culture of happiness is vital. As long as people exist, the pursuit of happiness will remain. When an enterprise dares to choose this value, pursue it to the end and apply concrete methods, I believe it will be the most sustainable foundation.
I would like to be remembered as someone who sows happiness in myself, in my family and in the community. That is my greatest dream.
In the past I resisted my circumstances because I did not want to be forced into things that did not bring a sense of freedom. But looking back on the entire journey, I understand that without such a strict and demanding father, perhaps I would not have found my own path to happiness nor had enough inner strength to overcome major upheavals. For me, that is a ‘treasure trove’ of experience.
Story by Leo Doan, Thuy Ngan
Photos by Phung Tien
