Gone shopping

I just finished reading Paco Underhill's Why We Buy: The Science of Shopping. Reading the book has heightened my awareness of what's happening (or more critically, what's not happening) when I'm shopping in stores outside the business I work in. In my role, it's to be expected that I bring an analytical mind when visiting the company's or competitors' stores. Oddly, I haven't thought about using the same critical analysis when shopping in my personal life. Shopping with my daughter recently, I experienced a heightened awareness of the failures of retail.

Perhaps buoyed by the small advances in the financial markets, consumers were out in force that afternoon, and the mall's parking lot was packed. Inside, it seemed like Christmas all over again. Until we walked into department stores, and experienced aisles that were clear and departments that were strangely empty of anyone (store employees included). My daughter needed a wardrobe staple (khaki pants) for a band performance, and I was determined not to support her desire to brand herself by shopping the overpriced and overhyped teen specialty stores. Two hours later, she happily carried our purchases in their teen-branded shopping bags out to the car. What happened?

The department store experience was nothing short of dismal. Staff assistance could only be found at the intermittent customer service kiosks scattered sparsely through the stores. Departments were unshoppable - too many racks, no apparent organization of merchandise, too much assortment and SKU redundancy, no maintenance of style/size presentation. Goods were placed on out of reach racks, with no means to get them down. Fitting rooms were not maintained nor supervised.Although at slightly lower price points than the teen chains, the merchandise had little value, with poor construction of cheap materials. Reacting to the retail downturn, these major retailers have taken decisions in cost-cutting that can only result in more losses, from theft and dissatisfied patrons leaving in frustration.

The experience at the teen stores was just the opposite. The stores were well merchandised and maintained. Assistance was readily available from staff who were the target age of the customer base, and the employees clearly loved wearing the clothes they were selling. The construction values were relatively high; the pants she purchased will probably look good when her legs have outgrown them. Although the style choices were too repetitive for my taste, I understand that's the point for their market: young teens work hard to fit in, and are more fearful of making a wrong fashion choice than making too safe a choice. These stores clearly understand their customer, and deliver on their promise to her. Increasingly, this is not enough, as more disruptive models are gaining market share and raising expectations for more customization, more rapid gratification, and at unbeatable values. But sadly, some of our largest retailers have not even caught up with the last wave, and their tactical moves in today's marketplace may speed their demise.

As retailers survey the future with natural anxiety, they need to think beyond protecting what they have. The world of scarcity only exists in one's projections; there is abundance if you allow yourself to recognize it.