NOT TOO LONG BACK, we discussed the rise of a monoculture of global marketing.
But, sometimes hidden behind that trend, another trend lies–the accellerating decline of some of the companies that used to define American mass marketing and merchandising.
Late last month, Barron’s had a piece about stagnant times at J.C. Penney. The article suggested that unless the old-line chain retailer got its act together, it could go the way of Woolworth’s.
Shortly after that piece (not available online except to paid subscribers) appeared, a Newhouse wire-service article told of similar woes befalling Penney’s longtime arch rival, Sears Roebuck & Co.
Sears and Penney are trapped by their value-and-service heritage as much as by their squaresville reputations. Like Woolworth and its onetime variety-store brethern such as Kress had been, Sears and Penney are known for selling moderately-priced goods in full-service stores. They made working-stiff families feel like part of the great American consumer dream by treating these consumers with dignity and respect.
Also, their one-style-fits-all fashion sense helped forge a nation of immigrants into a single American mass market.
But these days, the likes of Wal-Mart and Home Depot, with their ruthlessly efficient distribution systems and few-frills store layouts, are able to undersell full-service stores on many types of items.
These big-box chains are not only drawing customers away from independent retailers but also from the malls where Sears and Penney have most of their current outlets.
Many mall operators, meanwhile, are trying to reposition their properties around the all-powerful upscale demographic, that 20 percent of the population that now controls over half the spending power. They’re pushing Sears and Penney to either change their merchandising strategies (i.e., ditch the cheap stuff and those who buy it) or risk getting kicked out at the next lease-renewal time.
Seattle used to have Penney’s biggest store, and still has the oldest extant Sears store. This used to be a prodly middlebrow, work-ethic kind of place, and it supported these purveyors of middlebrow, work-ethic clothes, home furnishings, etc.
That’s changed, as you’ve likely noticed.
Everybody here’s supposed to be rich and at least a little trendy. Those who can’t afford, or don’t like, the costly wares sold at Nordstrom or Pacific Place are banished to the long checkout lines at Ross or the suburban purgatories of Target.
The days when Sears could correctly advertise itself as “Where America Shops” are gone, likely for good. The onetime mass market has evolved into scores of niche markets; and the current Sears/Penney niche (cheaper than other department stores, but nicer than big-box stores) is a precarious one at best.
Can these institutions move to a more reliable niche without losing everything they’re known for?
If I knew the answer to that, I’d be in the stock-advice business.
TOMORROW: Identity politics, target marketing–what’s the difference?
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