Youth, wisely wasted
Growing up in a gloomy corner of the suburbs, the mall is where my friends and I went when we wanted to have a good time, didn’t have money to spend and were still very much underage.
We killed entire afternoons and weekends rarely buying anything, gossiping about every possible thing in existence while scanning shelves of books, magazines and music, toting Starbucks and ogling the food court (which was crawling with everyone from school we were attempting to avoid).
The regular spots included the movie theatre, Chapters, Stitches, Hot Topic, Sephora, Claire’s and, of course, HMV. It was a simple suburban existence, but it was made even just a smidgen better thanks to the bright lights and clearance prices of each little shop the mall had to offer.
So when news broke that HMV Canada would be closing all of its 102 stores by April’s end after 30 years in business, I was a little heartbroken knowing that one of the few constants left over from my youth would soon to be no longer.
HMV first opened in Canada in 1986, making it very nearly my age and most certainly my demographic. I would pore through the shelves like an extra on a subpar remake of High Fidelity, with my black eyeliner, black nail polish, black boots and mass of black hair as I luxuriated in my desperate need to find the perfect music or movie to help justify the confused cliché I was at the time.
HMV, MuchMusic and Rolling Stone offered my earliest education on what pop culture was and what I liked. But as my tastes diversified, new outlets were born. Streaming and downloading came into my life, as did YouTube and Songza and now, Apple Music, Amazon and Netflix. I have no need for HMV, nore its novelty keychains and mugs, as I once did.
Now when I find myself in an HMV, it’s really only when I’m killing time or picking up a last-minute gift, regretting my choice each time I am accosted by a desperate cashier to register to become a “Pure” member.
Still, I am of that rare minority that enjoys a physical copy of their music and movies. I can’t count the number of overpriced CDs and DVDs that I own, proudly purchased each time they hit HMV’s shelves. They’ve become a tangible reminder of what I love and loved, and when I so needed an escape from school and family – and gradually found myself.