Hot off the press, by Ruth Spencer

Hot off the press

Avidly reading the St Lukes News, these three nattily dressed ladies seem absorbed in information they already knew: it’s big, it’s open, Sir Keith is here. In 1971 Sir Keith Holyoake declared St Lukes Mall open for the first time and 100,000 people turned up to see what this new, American-style mall had to offer.

Ross Webb, in the Auckland Architectural Association Bulletin, wrote in 1972 of thrilling scenes for housewives as the new malls produced “a kind of euphoria”. While these ladies seem to be containing themselves decorously so far, the “almost illicit feeling of being actively encouraged to spend, the glossy displays, coffee bars and anonymity all encourage a freer attitude to buying.”

While not everyone finds themselves swept away by the glitter of escalators and a Glassons, he was on to something with anonymity. What relief to be able to buy a tube of embarrassing ointment or “something for the weekend” without having to ask the family grocer to hand it over. What joy to purchase something with a few sequins on the collar without raised eyebrows from the local boutique assistant. We’re looking at you, lady on the right. Shine on, you crazy diamond.

Anonymity is just one of many lures of a mall. Out of the weather and traffic, no visible daylight or clocks: the goal is to lull you into a sense of being outside time and reality. Once you’ve thrown off such boring drudgeries, why not throw the budget out too?

As Webb tutted, “a far cry this from a daily gossip over a pushchair in the butchers shop”. Again, he’s right. We have instead a daily gossip over a pushchair by a cellphone case kiosk. The news remains the same: it’s big, it’s open, and everyone is here.