I’ve got a plan to restore the high street
orry, dear readers, I don’t want to ruin your day, but I have already started my Christmas shopping.
In my defence, I find I’m much more kindly disposed toward friends and family in early September than I am mid-december when, strung out and resentful, I end up throwing money at the problem (dear Lord, it’s going to have to be the scented candle after all…), which shouldn’t really be a problem. Namely, selecting a thoughtful gift for those I purport to love.
But there is another important reason why I browse and buy so early. It’s so rare to come across an independent shop selling unusual, affordable treasures these days.
And so when I do find an interesting little gem of a place – in Bude, or St Andrews or Harrogate – I pick up a scarf or a teapot, and feel it almost makes up for all the online Amazon Prime shopping I do the rest of the year.
It doesn’t, of course, but I am striving to make more of a use-it-orlose-it effort to prioritise bricks over clicks, because our high streets are in grave danger of dying.
Once upon a time, we worried about homogenisation, as the same chain stores and coffee shops rendered pedestrian precincts the length of the country identical. Now that those shopping zones are being hollowed out, I’m not sure there are even enough temporary charity shops to fill the void.
This year, big names like Toys R Us and Maplin have disappeared, New Look and Mothercare have announced store closures, while the beleaguered House of Fraser has been taken over by Sports Direct boss Mike Ashley. Industry insiders say the department store’s best hope is a merger. (House of Debenhams, anyone?) I wish them both luck because I’m not sure what we’ve got to replace them.
In June, John Lewis warned that its half-year profits would be “close to zero”. It has since invested in a rebranding campaign that includes a smart new black logo and a name change to “John Lewis & Partners”, to emphasise that it is employee-owned. Its heart-warming advert featuring 82 winsome children singing
has already gone viral.
I had a long moment of panic when I first saw it, as I thought it was the John Lewis Christmas commercial and that, far from being ahead, I was woefully behind with my festive stockpiling (see above).
Perhaps it is no coincidence that this week Debenhams has also rebranded – apparently, that’s what you do these days when the going gets tough – unveiling its first new logo in 20 years. But its new slogan (“Do a bit of Debenhams”) remains, in essence, about the joy of shopping.
Which is all well and good – and I speak as someone who once had a date night with my husband wandering around John Lewis until chucking-out time – but a dwindling handful of big shops selling much the same thing is a pretty tame day out.
I can vividly remember feeling slightly – no, not slightly, absolutely – gutted when Woolworths collapsed in 2009. It was where I used to take my children on wet days so they could longingly gaze at the Fisher Price toys and plan lists for Father Christmas.
Right now, those enterprises that ought to be the lifeblood of our high streets are being crippled not just by rents, but by punitive business rates.
The Federation of Small Businesses has called for a freeze on rates from April next year, plus a £1,000 discount for local shops, cafés and pubs, and I hope it happens. The high street can be a crucible of change and vibrancy, but only if local authorities and central government pull together to encourage and support the diverse businesses that are the lifeblood of communities and a draw for outsiders.
More and cheaper parking can work miracles for footfall. Outdoor restaurant tables can transform a parade of shops into a destination. People like me, with presents to buy and money to spend, children to entertain and friends to meet, crave uniqueness, something beyond the bland and the generic.
It’s not just millennials who want to buy “experiences”, rather than products (which can now be ordered at a click online). From time to time, I want to go out for dinner and see some live music – so why not on the high street? I love the idea of getting new workout gear and attending a yoga class – something that’s already being offered in store by high-end athleisurewear brand Lululemon.
If urban planners want to learn how to bring a beating heart back into a high street, they could do worse that visit Skipton in the Yorkshire Dales or Frome in Somerset, both the very antithesis of clone towns, where the shopkeepers pride themselves on good service and customers appreciate advice and a ready smile.
Shopping can be a pleasure, a joy even, but central to that is human interaction, whether that’s pass-thetime-of-day chit-chat or serving staff taking a genuine interest in whether the jade or the mustard sweater suits better, and whether the leopard print scarf is possibly a bit too much?
These shops, already competing against online behemoths, must not be stymied by local red tape and rocketing rates. Every local bookshop that closes is the loss of a town’s character, another Costa won’t feed the nation’s appetite for homemade, slightly wonky Victoria sponge that is sliced right in front of you (ooh, I’ll have the big piece, please), rather than pre-cut and layered with plastic sheeting in some far-flung industrial kitchen.
If I want to buy something utilitarian fast, I turn to the web. If I want to browse and consider and have a lovely afternoon, I go to shops.
The appeal is not just the fancy goods, but the feelgood factor of the personal touch. If we lose our high streets, I fear we risk losing something greater that cannot ever be replicated online.
People like me crave uniqueness, shops beyond the bland and generic