Tag: Saks

Worthless Wardrobe Boxes

I’ve always liked the play on words of Men’s Wearhouse. If you’re familiar with MW you know they cover more ground than just formal wear. They’ve set aside an area for tuxedos and such, but they have other sections for dress shirts, accessories, and even shoes. It’s like walking through a miniature department store… which is probably why MW is destined for the dust bin sometime in the coming year.

Just eighteen months after Saks Fifth Avenue acquired bankrupt Neiman-Marcus (for the “bargain” price of $2.65 billion) Saks itself filed for bankruptcy; just yesterday.  The 2024 merger of these big-box luxury retailers (which included Bergdorf Goodman) never really came to fruition. Chalk it up to biting off more than they could chew, or more likely to the impact of the changing habits of consumers.  Today’s shoppers want smaller, more specific brick-and-mortar options; that is, whenever they can drag themselves away from online purchasing.

The shuttering of department stores is not limited to the high-end verions, of course.  Macy’s is in the process of closing 150 “underperforming locations”.  JC Penny, Kohl’s, and Marshall’s are closing outlets here and there.  Even Carter’s, the popular option for children’s clothing, is calling it quits on 150 locations.  And Sears, which had almost 3,000 locations just fifteen years ago, is down to a mere five.  Frankly, I didn’t know Sears had any locations anymore.

Chicago’s Sears Tower

Sears (or the Sears, Roebuck and Co I remember as a child) was my family’s go-to-department store for just about anything.  My brothers and I were outfitted in Sears-brand clothing.  My mother purchased all kinds of items for her kitchen.  My father built up his workshop with dozens of Craftsman tools.  And of course, the Sears catalog was not only a kid’s dream-book of Christmas wishes, but its arrival in the mailbox was a sign Santa was on his way… not to your house but to the toy department at Sears.

Like many other things in the States, department stores were based on the originals in Europe.  Harrods of London has been around since 1849 and boasts of 1,100,000 square feet of selling space, making it the largest department store on the continent.  Paris hosts several stores I’ve never heard of yet many have been around as long as Harrods.  And Australia’s David Jones is considered the world’s longest continuously operating department store (since 1838!)

As you read this post – and if you’re Millennial or older – I’m sure a department store of your own experience comes to mind.  Towards the East Coast: Gimbels, Hudson’s, or Wanamaker’s.  Towards the West: May Company, Bullock’s, or Robinson’s.  In Chicago alone: Marshall Field’s, Carson Pirie Scott, or Wieboldt’s.  In Canada: Eaton’s.  The list is endless, even as most of them are downsizing or closing altogether.

In deference to my former department store habits, I also prefer more specific retail these days.  My shoes come from shoe stores.  My shirts come from stores of particular name brands.  But with shopping malls closing along with their aforementioned “anchors”, my stores of choice are now stand-alones or in outlet malls.  Now that I think about it, outlet malls are kind of like outdoor department stores, aren’t they?

I may be nostalgic for the department stores of my past, but I certainly understand why the concept has come and is about to be gone.  We have more convenient, more tailored options these days.  Which has me wondering about supermarkets.  Supermarkets are also under the threat of the changing habits of consumers.  No, I don’t expect a return to those wonderful merchant-driven street markets you find all over Europe.  But we are getting more comfortable with placing orders ahead of time and having groceries delivered to our car or front door.  In other words, enjoy shopping in “food warehouses” while you still can, because department stores are about to become nothing more than worthless wardrobe boxes.

Some content sourced from the CNN Business article, “Saks Global files for bankruptcy protection…”, and Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”. 

Selfish Shopping

The hustle and bustle of the holiday season is on full display this week.  We’ve reached the critical timeframe – ten days out – where packages must be sent if they’re getting to destinations by Christmas.  We’re making lists, not just for Santa but also for last-minute purchases.  Now here’s the good news, weary shopper: no matter where you’re spending your holiday dollars, self-checkout is often an option.

If you’re like me, you beeline to self-checkout when you’re done shopping.  You still have “the control”, as people like to say (who also prefer to drive instead of fly).  With self-checkout you believe you can scan and bag faster than those who are paid to do so.  Maybe, but consider the decisions you have to make in the process::

  1. When do you choose self-checkout?  Most of the time, (especially if the checker-bagger lines are long) but what if you have a lot of items?  Self-checkout is awkward with a full shopping basket (ignore the stares).  One time my wife and I snagged side-by-side registers, put the cart between them, and scanned away.  Against the rules, you say?  What rules? 🙂
  2. Where do you stand in line?  This is touchy territory, shopper.  If you face the typical arrangement where one set of registers sits opposite the other, with enough open space in between, you can get separate lines for each set… which gets ugly when a person assumes he/she is entitled to the next available register on either side.  Prepare for battle.
  3. Which register do you choose?  Murphy’s Law of Self-Checkout: One of the registers doesn’t work.  You just assumed it was available because you couldn’t see the “out of order” screen until you were right in front of it.  Now you have to turn around and reclaim your place in line.  Again, ignore the stares.
  4. When do you alert the self-checkout human assistant (oxymoron?)  How many times have you gotten ahead of the system only to hear, “unexpected item in bagging area” or “please wait for assistance”?  Here’s a tip: don’t wait for assistance.  Most of the time the register is trying to catch up and just needs a little more time.  Congrats, you’re faster than a computer.

Hard to believe, but retail self-checkout just celebrated forty years.  We shoppers been doing what one writer describes as “quasi-paid unforced labor under surveillance” since the 1980s.  I remember how I wasn’t thrilled about the concept when it debuted.  Back then I thought, “Why do I have to do the checking out when someone else is paid to do it for me?”

I was even more annoyed when the airlines put up their “selfish” kiosks and dared travelers to check themselves in and print their own boarding passes.  How quickly we adapt.  Today I’ll choose self-checkout any time I’m given the option (even though surveys say 67% have a bad experience).  In fact, we’ve been conditioned to self-checking out ever since the debut of the bank ATM in the late 60s.  DIY checkout will only get more prevalent as companies reduce labor costs.  One of these days I can picture a self-checkout Starbucks, with a fully mechanical barista standing by to whip up your skinny latte.  Don’t bet against it.

Reasons we choose self-checkout (web.mit.edu)

Self-checkout is about to enter a new arena: clothing stores.  But what about those security devices attached to the sleeves or pant legs?  And how will they know if we slip an extra pair of shoes into the box? The bigger concern, however, may be image.  How will Saks or Bloomingdales look with a bank of self-checkout registers next to their fancy cosmetic counters?  Not the pretty picture of luxury shopping we’ve come to expect.

Image doesn’t matter to me so much, but my time does.  If self-checkout returns a few minutes to my day, I say sign me up.  But somewhere we’ve got to draw the line, people.  At the rate we’re going, human interaction will soon be the exception, not the rule.  It’s also not the direction a world in need of more face time should be heading.

With that, I put down the keyboard for the remainder of 2022.  Remember, the holidays are anything but “selfish”, and everything about face time.  Merry Christmas!

Some content sourced from the CNN Business article, “Self-checkout annoys some customers…”