A hit with Instagrammers and with investors, this hard-to-pronounce Swedish backpack brand is on a roll

This article is part of an occasional series about iconic brands that are doing surprisingly well in these uncertain times. Previous installments looked at the buzzy comeback of Doc Martens and the Moka Express coffee pot, the indestructible Italian icon.

Minimalism is a big deal when it comes to alpine backpacks and gear. Every unnecessary strap or pocket adds weight, makes the piece more confusing, less resistant to water, and more likely to catch on a tree branch or a jagged rock.

“We’ve all had the experience of struggling to open a poorly designed backpack in the dark or the rain, or knowing we can’t put it down on a wet surface because everything inside will get wet,” said Steve Scott, director of the Kendal Mountain Festival, in the U.K., and an adventure sports specialist and former professional skier.

Scott told Fortune that over the years he’s seen dozens of people—ranging from world-class mountain climbers to hiking hobbyists—cutting unnecessary parts off their equipment before using it. But he said he’s never seen anyone strip down a Fjällräven backpack.

“That’s unnecessary since they’re already pretty minimalist,” said Scott, who bought his first Fjällräven backpack while living in Norway in the 1990s. “Besides, the products are rugged. They’d be pretty hard to cut even if it was necessary.”

The first Fjällräven backpack—the difficult-to-pronounce name (“Fyall-RAAH-ven” comes close) is Swedish for “Arctic Fox”—was made in 1960 in Sweden by Åke Nordin, a former soldier who began crafting wooden-framed backpacks with his mother’s sewing machine in his family’s cellar in Örnsköldsvik, a coastal town 300 miles north of Stockholm. Early on, Nordin swapped the wooden parts for lighter and more durable aluminum, and after a while, design improvements resulted in frameless backpacks. In the late 1960s, the company began producing high-end winter jackets and other accessories.

Today, the company's sturdy backpacks can be spotted in downtown Amsterdam or on hiking trails in Zion National Park, a resurgence that's padding profits and fueling a solid stock market rally in Stockholm.

A pain in the back

The event that changed Fjällräven’s trajectory came in 1977 when a study showed that Swedish children had an unusually high incidence of lower back pain. The culprit? Hefty bookbags that students slung over a shoulder.

“After the study was released, Åke Nordin decided to adapt the backpacks so they could be used by students, spreading the weight evenly across the shoulders and leaving both hands free,” Martin Axelhed, chief executive of Fjällräven International and an executive vice-president of parent company Fenix Outdoor, told Fortune.