Swatch Out

My first watch was a Timex that my grandfather bought at the local drugstore when I was 12. You had to wind it up, but John Cameron Swayze said it was so reliable you could place it on the rudder of a speedboat, and drag it through the Florida Everglades, and “It would still take a licking, and keep on ticking.” It broke by the sixth grade.
 
The Swatch watch entered the market around 1983-1984, quickly catching on because it was fun, fashionable and affordable (less than $50). It was plastic, colorful and lightweight, adding to its distinctive appeal. It quickly became a “collectible.” I still have my original gray face/blue band Swatch that my neighbor, Gaby Jochnowitz,  bought me on El Al, when she was coming home from Israel where she was working on a Kibbutz.  I even kept the original case and sleeve instructions. It’s in mint condition (battery is dead), but all offers will be entertained.
 
The meaning of the name "Swatch" was a derivative of "Second Watch," because this new watch was usually the buyer’s secondary watch, it was practically a disposable accessory. However, another version of the story suggests that it is the contraction of Swiss (Made) Watch, hence, "S'Watch," soon becoming "Swatch" as it’s known today, but I digress…
 

Without any rebranding or remarketing goal, the Swatch store on Broadway and 44th Street just underwent a massive overhaul.  It’s a well-trodden location attracting locals and tourists. The store is beautifully executed. Kudos!
 
  There is at first the white-on-white interior with oversize graphics, usually done so cliché ridden and hackneyed, but I have to give it up to the designer--it’s really smartly pulled together, and the off whites are really rich in hue and intensity, so you can see the watches from across the street (Planet Hollywood).

The case lines are a series of undulating and interlocking shapes reminiscent of watch gears offered in differing heights, sizes and shapes, so that the floor can be set in any number of configurations, based on need, new product and altering the traffic pattern. It’s scathingly inventive. The case lines are relatively low to the ground so that the Swatches look more like museum pieces.

Wow, there are even soft foamy couches that hug the case lines for weary shoppers. Best of all are the oversize linear chandeliers that are not faceted with crystals, but instead have series of colorful Swatches dangling down like prisms. It’s just so simple and clever when you realize that a Swatch can make a groovy lampshade too. This is a really great store!
 
When I think of all the ways the store could have gone, when I think of all the ways designers create stores that fail to understand the product, let alone the customer, I have to say, Swatch seems to have done everything right.
 
P.S. The watches are still the best value in the world today!

--Ron Knoth, Guest Blogger

Maxx Surprise

There's something I like to call "Maxx Magnetism," which is the impressive power a TJ Maxx store has over me, literally sucking me inside its doors before I even know what has hit me, should I enter within a 500-ft. radius.

Like all diligent shopaholics, I know that a trip to TJ Maxx is not for the faint of heart. There is no such thing as a "quick stop" here, where treasures are plentiful, but must be sought-out with a discerning eye like a game of hide-and-seek. While there are amazing bargains and finds to be had, it's not always easy to dig them up as quickly as we'd like.

That being said, once I've meticulously combed the racks and picked up a few gems, the idea of trying them on in the fitting room is less than appetizing. But recently, a trip to a local TJ Maxx in the Greater Atlanta area changed my entire outlook.

In the past, the idea of walking into a TJ Maxx fitting room used to make me, well, want to barf. I could just imagine the broken door hinges, chipped paint, stringy carpet, horrid fluorescent lighting and the requisite "fat-mirror." Risking the wrong size and purchasing my items right away seemed worth the risk if it meant skipping the aforementioned unpleasant fitting room experience. But the other day at a TJ Maxx, I accumulated a hefty collection of items, and was convinced by my shopping buddy to "just try them on already." So, I reluctantly trudged to the fitting room area with (soon to be) my things. And oh, what a pleasant surprise!

It was clean, bright, colorful. Organized, simple, well-lit. No stains on the rugs or walls, no gum squished in the corner, no broken benches and...drumroll please...no fat mirror! It was actually very cute! As I happily tried on a few items (and even lingered around), I was so thrilled by the newly refurbished fitting rooms that all I could think was, "I feel a blog coming on!"

Kudos to TJ Maxx for the fitting room revamp. Know any other retailers embracing the power of the fitting room when it comes to shopping decisions? Tell us here!

--Jessie Bove

Pitch, Pitch, Whine, Whine

So it seems we find ourselves at that inevitable point in the design cycle once again. You know the one I'm talking about--where pitching is table stakes. Seems just a few short months ago when the economy gave us the buffer we needed to stoically fold our arms and say "we don't do that," but ahhh how times change. Now it's like our industry's dirty little secret, the thing everyone is doing but no one is talking about...kind of like Botox.

I wanted to start by saying there's an argument that pitching is a necessary evil in the times we find ourselves in and I understand that--really, I do. The stakes have never been higher for our clients and every firm out there wants to make the best first impression on what is essentially a first date. In its simplest form, pitching is one thing you can use to try and get people to like you...again, kind of like Botox.

Pitching of course falls into two categories, one quite different from the other. First there is the paid pitch, where some sort of stipend is offered up as a gesture of good faith and to deaden the inevitable pain of the resources that any one of these presentations can suck up. You still lose your rear end on these assignments, but you feel a little better about it. It's the other one I'm talking about here though...the nasty one...the free pitch.

There isn't enough room here for me to get into all the reasons why free pitching is bad for the client, the agency and the industry, and you've probably all heard them before anyway. But rest assured, circumventing a design firm's process--a process intrinsically based on interaction with the client--is not going to yield many magic bullets. Sure the ideas are free (and free is good right?), but exercises like this are the design equivalent of pinning the tail on the donkey--and all parties involved should accept that going in.

But rather than get into all that, the point of this little missive is actually to highlight a client who surprised me recently with their approach to the pitch process.

This client (who obviously shall remain nameless) deserves note for sticking to the letter and law of what pitching is supposed to be about. The line we have all heard a thousand times is that the client "just wants to learn a bit about how you think." All of which sounds great until the next pages tell you that thinking needs to be presented in "floor plans, four perspective views of the interior, a materials board, oh and if you could take a quick look at the bathrooms while you are at it, that would be great." Yuk.

I half expected one of these on this aforementioned pitch, but imagine my surprise when this went a wholly different route. They set a creative challenge for the firms completely unconnected with the job. It was a brilliant little brief and, while clearly referring to their brand, it wasn't something they could just take in house and build when the work was complete. I thought it showed them in the most wonderful light. Recognizing they needed help making their decision, but having a sensitivity to those firms they considered potential partners.

I wanted to hold this up as a truly great solution to a challenge we all face in these trying times. From what I have heard, the lateral nature of the assignment led to each of the firms truly thinking outside of the box, perhaps thinking more about the client than a standard beauty parade might have caused them to do.

They did such a great job, I honestly wish I could name them, but a few of us are still "under consideration" so to speak. Perhaps when the dust has settled and someone has got the job I'll spill the beans.

Oh, one last thing before I go. A friend in the biz told me recently their client justified the free pitch request by saying, "Well, our ad agencies do this all the time."  To which I would always respond that retail design firms are not ad agencies. Nor are they compensated in the same way on the back end. The model is not the same, neither should the process be.

Hang in there folks...and of course, as always, comments are very welcome.

--Christian Davies, Guest Blogger

Le Vigne Wine Shop: A Recession-Ready Reality

Here's a story that might lift your day. Sommelier Carlo Orrico just opened a "cute as a button" wine shop in New York's Greenwich Village--a 600-sq.-ft. space next to Jonathan Adler's boutique, which he found in an ad on Craigslist.com. After signing the lease for "Le Vigne," he hired architecture firm MADLAB LLC with the goal of breaking the mold of traditional wine shopping.

As the design process went underway, the price tag quickly went up. Orrico's dreams of custom features and design elements pushed the cost higher than the novice shop owner had imagined. Lucky for him, MADLAB brought in the artist collective Spurse and came up with a turnkey solution that would compress the design process into a simple, to-the-heart-of-it solution: three client meetings, three design drawings and three weeks of installation. No problem, right?

Armed with "tools, truckloads of thrift shop furniture and a knack for experiential carpentry," the design team decided to leave the excavated space as is and used recycled and repurposed second-hand furniture as the primary design approach.

The result is a 25-ft.-long massive assemblage of tables, drawers, lids and chair legs--all painted white in the center aisle and along the side wall--that allows an abundance of surfaces, nooks and clusters to display the shop's collection of artisanal wines in a unique and clever way. Cheap. Brilliant.

Design creativity rules!

--Alison Embrey Medina

DuPont Corian Lights Up Its New York Design Studio

A space to show off the diverse capabilities of DuPont Corian is an understatement. The new DuPont Corian Design Studio in New York's Flatiron district is a full-out appeal to the senses. The 5,000-sq.-ft. space is intended to be an interactive workshop where designers can consult directly with experts to address project-specific needs. And there's plenty of pretty things to look at, too.

Designed by architects Michael Morris and Yoshiko Sato of New York-based Morris Sato Studio, the space uses lighting, sound and shape technology to create "a sanctuary of space." Innovative lighting fixtures hang from the ceiling, featuring a thin skin of Corian wrapping elongated tubes with color-changing LEDs. The space is segmented by industry, opening with a multi-use wall, and then separating for hospitality, kitchen, bath, corporate and healthcare usages. A fitting showroom for a limitless product.

--Alison Embrey Medina

A Retail Facelift

Duane Reade is virtually indistinguishable from it competitors, Rite Aide, Walgreens and CVS. Product, and the overall visual elements, color palette (red, white and a little bit of blue), are so similar that they’re sort of the Huey, Dewey and Louis of the pharmacy set.

In New York City, due to favorable (albeit unfair to other businesses) tax advantages and abatements, pharmacies and banks appear on every other corner in our city. In my neighborhood, within a three-block range, there are three Duane Reades, two Rite Aides, and two CVS stores--don’t get me started on banks.

It was with great surprise that I saw that Duane Reade is giving itself a totally glam-over facelift, not seen since Joan Rivers or Jocelyn Wildenstein last went under the knife. The facelift caught me off guard. Duane Reade was so overbuilt that they’re closing stores. Like most facelifts, you get what you pay for, and Duane Reade seems to be pouring a lot of dollars into this one. Still, I’m happy to see some progressive visual changes.

Gone is the old medicinal and patriotic color palette, which has been traded in for fashionable and chic black, with a rich lavender and bright apple green. It’s so sophisticated that it looks like it was borrowed from the Jason Wu runway show. The black is an interesting choice--it reads as grounded, smart and serious. I like the new color combo. It’s distinctive and adventurous.

Almost gone is the classic interlocking DR and lower-case myriad Duane Reade font in place of a bolder DR that looks more like the font on a prescription pad, and reinforces the association that the store has more to do with doctors than discount Q-Tips, Gold Bond Anti-Itch Cream and snack aisles. It’s an attempt to update its font, but for me, it just doesn’t quite make it. I’m not crazy about the different fonts, or its alignment within the bulleted circle. It just looks clunky. I know that with the aging of America, that pharmaceuticals have become big business. So to further reinforce the new concept, the pharmacy has been moved to the front of the store, which for me lacks privacy. I don’t want my neighbors to see me picking up my scripts.

On a more positive note, it’s interesting that the retailer, in an attempt to bring its message to the street and communicate directly with its customers, is now asking simple perfunctory questions like “Do I have everything I need?” and “How do I look?” and even “How do I feel?“ (Answers: yes, fabulous and I‘ve been better! Thank for asking.) Anyway, I do think the questions are well chosen, and do get passers by to engage with the store. Big thumbs up!

Gone from the old template are slat walled drop-in windows full of boxes of Tide, Cheerios and Wella-Balsam. Now we can see directly into the refurbished interiors, which look good. It truth, it’s better lit and better signed, but as Gertrude Stein would say, a gondola is a gondola is a gondola. Inside fabric banners running vertically are a refreshing change from the old-fashioned horizontal signage with the snap-in lettering, letting you know you were in the eye care/cold & flu/laxative section. Now it’s simplified, “Beauty” or “Pharmacy.” Yes, the check-out counter still has candy, gum and People Magazine heavily merchandised, but there isn’t the load of cheap crap filling up the counter we are accustomed to. The cash wraps are a soft weathered pine in a cool blue gray reminiscent of Cape Cod or Martha’s Vineyard. I’m not certain if it was Duane Reade’s intention, but the overall image borrows heavily from Sephora and Ulta, with a touch of Target.

One thing for certain--given the choice to shop in Duane Reade or one of its competitors, I have to admit Duane Reade wins hands down.

--Ron Knoth, Guest Blogger

The Very, Very Right and The Very, Very Wrong.

Ever have one of those weeks where you are simultaneously reminded of what is good design and what is not?

I just had one of those weeks. It started when a friend turned me on to this company, Heath ceramics.   As an industrial design pal of mine once told me, “a cup is an object meant to stop your tea from falling all over the floor.” I marveled at Heath’s sense of purposefulness and form, and felt it was something of an ultimate expression of the art of things done well. Things crafted to simply satisfy need.

Yes, it's more expensive than your average tableware, but that’s because it's hand-made in small batches by people who actually care about what they are doing. And yet despite the price, as I placed a mug on my birthday wish list, I couldn’t help thinking that this would be a satisfying way to stop my tea from falling all over the floor each and every time I have a cup of char.

The same week I found Heath, I went to Seattle and while I was there, I went to their fancy public library. Since it opened, I have formed my own thoughts and opinions of the place, as one does. For example, I’ve always hated the building itself. It looks exactly like the Lego buildings my son makes on weekend mornings-- nd while its kind of cute when a 4-year-old does this, it’s a little less cute when a city spends gazillions of dollars to plonk this lumpen slab in the midst of its downtown.

But more than that, when I was actually in the place, I was struck by the fact that it seemed a truly miserable place to read a book. And isn’t that at least part of the point? I decided to research this further and came across this jaw-dropping speech by the architect.

It’s a jaw-dropping speech to me, for the most part, because it shows how we can use this thing called design process to talk ourselves into almost anything. And while I agreed with almost every premise of his lecture--about trying to reinvent the way we think about these spaces--the end result, to my mind, falls spectacularly at the first fence. For all of its rationale, nifty programmatic diagrams and well…waffle…I didn’t want to hang out in this building, much less curl up and expand my mind with a good read. In fact I couldn’t wait to leave.

Perhaps I’m just not getting the point. Perhaps Seattle’s library is the future and Heath is the past. But I kept thinking to myself something was horribly out of whack here.

To quote Jeremy Northam in the movie "The Winslow Boy": “Let right be done.” I wonder if we are doing right when the process we are following results in design that doesn’t satisfy the most basic of needs.

If you happen to love the Seattle Public Library I’d love to hear what I was missing. Until then, I’m off to have a cuppa.

--Christian Davies, Guest Blogger

Grandma Needs Retail Love Too

My poor grandma just can't seem to get any retail love. With a quadruple bypass, hip replacements and an excessive paranoia that salespeople in general are trying to take advantage of her--she's pretty much at odds with the retail industry. The aisles aren't wide enough for her walker, the music is too loud, the floors are slick and the lighting is overpowering. And these are just some of her many complaints.

I recently suggested that grandma consider the very real possibility of moving overseas to Europe. After all, they do have free healthcare as well as senior-designed grocery stores. What an amazing concept, right? Well, they had to come up with something, as the elderly population is exploding. According to the Daily Mail, in 20 years half the population in Europe will be over 50 years of age.

Ever-progressive Tesco is currently planning to cater to this growing market, with plans to open a senior-focused store in Newcastle, England. The 60,000-sq.-ft. store would be located next to Newcastle University's Institute for Aging and Health (well, they won't have to worry about advertising, will they?!) and would include magnifying glasses, softer lighting, wider aisles and more senior-friendly shelving.

Is it just me or is this a really good idea for the United States as well?

With the baby boomer generation getting older and older, demand for senior-friendly retail stores will only increase. I hate to say it, but once again, the Europeans have beat us to it. This demographic absolutely needs our attention, and designing retail spaces that accommodate their preferences is a smart business idea.

Those uber intelligent Europeans, they're always showing us up, aren't they?!

In all seriousness though, do you know of any U.S retailers that are catering to this demographic in terms of store design? What do you think about the necessity of this? Leave your comments here.

--Heather Strang

 

Dating in the Toilet Paper Aisle?!

The other day while inspecting an avocado at my local grocery store, a shockingly handsome man sauntered by. I set the avocado down to take a closer look, and for a moment considered approaching him. But, ultimately I chickened out--I mean what would I say?

"Hey, you're kind of cute, why don't we get to know one another better over in the toilet paper aisle?"

How totally unromantic!

But then, I read about the upcoming remodel of a Washington, D.C., Safeway store, in an effort to make the store more conducive to socialization. Rewind the above mentioned scenario with the cute stranger, and suddenly I have a decent pick-up line.

"Hey, you caught my eye--would you like to grab a coffee on the terrace?"

Sounds a lot more appealing than the toilet paper aisle, right?

The Wisconsin Avenue Safeway store in Georgetown will undergo an extensive remodel, making the location 45 percent larger, including a two-level building with an outdoor terrace, and two parking areas. The lower level would be leased out to other businesses, while the grocery store would be featured on the top floor. According to The Hoya, the remodel will include hardwood floors, subdued lighting, updated produce, deli, bakery and floral departments, as well as an indoor/outdoor cafe.

And I'm not the only one making the connection between socially structured retail space and love, or at least new interactions. A quote in The Hoya article reiterated my thoughts, "I definitely think it will make the shopping experience more enjoyable, and it will definitely be a way for more people to meet," said local resident and Safeway customer Elizabeth Williams.

Apparently, Elizabeth and I are operating from the same mental space (or we're both single sisters!).

I would love to see more retailers design their stores to encourage community and/or dating for their customers. We'd all be apt to stay a lot longer, and therefore buy a whole lot more.

What do you think about store design that's meant to increase social interaction? Know of any existing stores that have already utilized this concept with their design? Leave your comments here.

--Heather Strang

 

Convenience Stores Go Glam

Okay, I have a confession to make: I love convenience stores. It's weird and sick and twisted, I know. I mean, what is there to love about a convenience store? It's filled with sugary, calorie-laden snacks and stale coffee, not to mention a dingy bathroom.

I think it has something vaguely to do with childhood road trips and being able to consume sugar, but I can't be sure. Today, being the adult that I am, I have a much healthier diet, which means I can hardly eat anything that's offered in a convenience store.

Unless of course, I decide to go to Mooresville, N.C., that is. According to the Charlotte Observer, entrepreneur Matthew Johnson recently opened Johnson Family Markets, a 6,000-sq.-ft. natural market convenience store with a full-service gas station. A healthy convenience store? I think I just died and went to heaven. Johnson says his concept is, "kind of like a smaller version of Trader Joe's, with the ability to get gas." And guess what? I love Trader Joe's--so this is a perfect match.

Shoppers can purchase regional, organic and biodynamic wine, organic meats such as ostrich and buffalo, organic snacks, recycled paper products, natural cleaners and produce. A salad bar is on the way, and customers can nab lower-priced gas (6 cents less than the area average) and get it full-service. But, no market is perfect, so there are also cigarettes and Kraft Macaroni & Cheese. Marginally disappointing, but again, we can't expect perfection the first time around.

Now, this is a store concept I can get behind. Small stores have recently become all the rage, as stores such as Trader Joe's, and Fresh & Easy gain popularity in the grocery sector. As customers become more concerned about organic food offerings, along with the convenience of getting in and out of a store with ease, smaller markets are becoming more mainstream.

Finally, I can get my convenience store fix and not sacrifice my healthy eating habits. If I go to North Carolina anyway. Do you think healthy convenience stores will start catching on and the concept will spread to the West? Right now, the healthiest thing I can find in a convenience store is a Clif bar. Leave your comments on this new concept here!

--Heather Strang