I was saddened to learn about the soon-to-be closing of Lord & Taylor, in part because it was one of my mother's favorite New York department stores, and in part because it joins a long list of other now-departed Fifth Avenue retailers (Bonwit Teller and B. Altman, to name but two) that represented what was left of a more stylish, and much more personalized form of retailing that began in the 19th century, endured for much of the 20th century, and now seems to be definitively winding down to a close in the 21st. For us, the storied names of these shopping palaces are little more than nameplates. But, once upon a time, there were actual people behind the nameplates, people whose tastes and marketing skills, along with a highly competitive marketplace, gave those nameplates the value that at least some of them have managed to retain long after their namesakes have vanished from our midst.
It's easy to blame the disappearance of Lord & Taylor (actually, downsizing the number of outlets) on the prevalence of shopping via the Internet, which gives shoppers an unlimited amount of range and convenience. And there's no question that Internet shopping traffic has had a major adverse impact generally on traditional bricks-and-mortar retail outlets. For me, as for others, it would be somewhat hypocritical to complain about this too much. I lament the vanishing of traditional book stores, but I also buy books on Amazon and Barnes & Noble. In many respects, the Internet is the proverbial better idea, and shopping is a major aspect of our lives that reflects that fact.
But it's not hypocritical to note that, in the pursuit of convenience, we've lost an important part of our social lives as well. Stores like Lord & Taylor used to be not just places to shop, but to spend time with family members and close friends. Most of these stores had restaurants, which became places to extend the social aspect of shopping. These days, you're lucky to find as much as a McDonald's in a Walmart (and "lucky" may depend on how you feel about fast food).
In any case, convenience plays a large role in the disappearance of the Lord & Taylor-type stores. Physical elegance and social contact mean less to modern shoppers than they once did; getting goods quickly, and as cheaply as possible, are what matter most. But there is another factor as well: debt. During the 1980s, when economic expansion was fueled not by tax cuts, as is commonly believed, but by massive amounts of public and private borrowing, the ownership of many former "carriage-trade" stores such as Lord & Taylor was consolidated through mergers that were funded by massive loans These loans, unfortunately for everyone, proved to be so large that they stores themselves could not generate enough revenues to service the debt and generate profits for the new owners.
This fact, combined with a reduction in the variety of merchandise available in each of the stores, slowly led to the closing of many of the individual stores, which by this point had become little more than nameplates. Once upon a time, you could reasonably guess where an item had been bought just by looking at it. But, as time passed, that was less and less true. Macy's no longer needed to tell Gimbel's anything; they were both selling the same merchandise--and, as a result, only one of them has survived to this day.
The problem of debt strangling our economy is by no means limited to retail. In addition to its other problems (climate change and the spread of autocracy), the world economy is forced to chow down on servicing a level of debt that now stands at $247 trillion. A level of debt that has its roots in the go-go '80s--when, economically (to borrow a Stephen Sondheim lyric from "Follies) everything was possible and nothing made sense (then or now). There is clearly no way out of this financial trap except debt forgiveness. What is needed now is an international conference to work out the terms of this, on a global basis. Perhaps that can actually happen, once everyone faces up to the need for it--and it may take a cataclysmic event for everyone to do so.
But what if we could do it? And what if it could be combined with incentives to repatriate currencies that have fled their home countries, seeking tax shelters oversees? (U.S. dollars, we're looking at you here.)
Maybe some of that forgiveness, combined with a little cash, could save what's left of the carriage-trade model, before it vanishes altogether. Maybe some of that cash could help to not only provide the Lord & Taylors of the world with much-needed capital, but also with new, aspiring merchants to find ways to combine Internet-age convenience with old-school social experience. Maybe, if we can liberate money from the tyranny of debt service, and get it to start moving at the same speed as the people who make, save, invest, and spend it, we really can bake a large enough economic pie for everyone.
Admittedly, this is just a dream. But maybe necessity will make it a reality. I hope it happens before we say goodbye to another Lord & Taylor.
No comments:
Post a Comment