Christian Davies, vp of design and creative director at Utility Inc. (Seattle), will be a featured speaker at VM+SD's second annual International Retail Design Conference, September 18-20, in Pasadena, Calif. He is also a frequent contributor to VM+SD. Here are some of his thoughts:
It all used to be so simple.
Driven by demand, retail historically was about putting things in front of people, things they needed, and then watching them barter for the privilege of taking these necessities home.
From “how much for that wooly mammoth?” to Simple Simon and the pie man, it was a system that worked rather well for a very long time.
And then, after we had proved ourselves good consumers, the retail gods smiled on us and offered something even more appealing. We didn't just have to buy the things we needed, we could also go shopping for things we just wanted. Lo and behold, desire crept into the mix. Suddenly it wasn't just a question of any old jeans for squatting in the river panning for gold; now it was baggy or boot cut. Suddenly cars didn't just come in black. Suddenly we invented lingerie.
Last holiday season, though, the fundamentals seemed to have shifted.
From a Thanksgiving that began for me in a listless downtown Nordstrom's flagship to the last of the post-holiday sales, one thing was certain: Nobody wanted to spend any money.
The depressing thing was that so many stores either didn't see this coming or, if they did, had only one strategy to deal with it. Mark it down.
We had sales upon sales until, on Christmas Eve, the prices reached bottom. People were putting off purchases throughout December waiting for more deals. I suspect the really astute waited until after lunch on the 24th.
And so we found ourselves in that Nordy's. Picture the same store a year earlier: a pianist, fresh flowers and a silver-tongued concierge strolling past pear-colored columns to the immaculate sales floor. This past year, those same columns were a garish red that screamed SALE, everything felt deep discount and the concierge was continually on break.
Walking past a table of pastel Prada sneakers, I was half-expecting a “two for one” cardboard sign with authentic dog-eared edges.
Barely a month later, the manufacturer of said sneakers sat squarely in the media's gun sights over the opening of its latest New York flagship. It was as if optimism and enthusiasm for one's own brand was somehow inappropriate. Prada was criticized for everything from bad timing to inappropriate use of company funds.
I, for one, saw this store as a bright spot for, if nothing else, giving us a dose of escapism just when we needed it. I hope it succeeds. Prada is to be applauded for sticking with its convictions while so many around it rush to change their stripes. Believe me, this is a brand we need.
Or did they stick to their convictions? That same week, my wife and I stumbled across a complete set of Miuccia's vinyl backpacks and purses at our local Costco. Needless to say, “Prada's Little Orgasms” – as these products were recently described – were not exactly the thrill the missus and I were expecting while foraging for bulk cat food.
I finally found my oasis in, of all places, the local Montblanc store. The attention to detail given to wrapping my gift seemed like the eye of the storm compared to the throng I had just fought through. A chaotic mass of pen buyers, confused by an obtuse layout, was still handled with good grace and patience. And the handwritten thank-you note from the sales staff? Perfection. And I was just another Christmas shopper buying monogrammed notepaper as a stocking stuffer.
Perhaps we as consumers should be careful what we wish for. This relentless bargain hunting, the desperate desire not to pay full price, it all points in one direction. The level of service and attention to detail I found at Montblanc for a $20 gift may be on borrowed time. But when so many others seem to be selling themselves short to keep the analysts happy, experiences like mine may just be today's only true bargains.