Sic Transit Borders

I'm drafting this on 20 July while contemplating this morning's Wall Street Journal report that the Borders bookstore chain is to be liquidated.

My thoughts and emotions regarding this are mixed. On the one hand, the marketplace is a cruel place that benefits us enormously, the price of those benefits being the loss of some businesses or even industries or fields that we truly liked. Now, I love bookstores. So I don't like it when one folds and like it even less when the loss is of an entire chain.

Borders and I go back a long ways. I used to consult for General Motors and would fly to Detroit a couple of times a year to meet with its Economics Staff. Since there was plenty of dead time during those visits, I'd drive around the metropolitan area to amuse myself. One of the places I'd go was Ann Arbor, home to the University of Michigan. Michigan is a rare university that doesn't have its own student bookstore, relying instead on stores located near campus. And sometime in the mid-1980s I discovered the original, pre-chain, Borders store on State Street near the top of Liberty Street.

At the time, Borders occupied what seemed to be two stores with the adjoining wall knocked out (though I might easily be mis-remembering). Not a lot of sales space by later big-box store standards, but large for the time. Best of all was the selection. Many books that I hadn't seen before even in bookstore-rich Seattle.

Naturally, I was pleased when Borders was transformed into a chain of large bookstores; there was even a Borders on Charing Cross Road in London. And for ten years or so I preferred Borders to its main competitor, Barnes & Noble, though that might have been due to the Tacoma store that had a fine collection of history and military books that attracted customers from the major military facilities in the area.

Eventually Borders began to slip in my esteem. The process was gradual, so it's hard to put a finger on this or that reason why. The cumulative result was that Borders stores seemed to have skimpier book collections than nearby Barnes & Noble outlets serving the same community. (Savvy bookstore chains make allowance for local preferences. I noted the military factor for the Tacoma Borders and I'll mention that the B&N in Seattle near the University of Washington and some highly upscale neighborhoods has a selection of art book surpassing most other B&N stores -- though their store in Santa Monica has a comparable art section.)

Eventually Borders stores seemed to be devoting half their floor space for non-book items, so I'd find myself in a Borders if there was no other bookstore to browse or if I wanted a Seattle's Best coffee rather than a Starbucks. (Yes, I know Starbucks owns Seattle's Best and will take a hit with Borders' demise, but I like its coffee better than Starbucks.)

Now that Borders is essentially gone, I can't say that I really miss it in the concrete even though I do miss it in the abstract.

Styling Discontinuities: Chrysler

Some car makes stick to styling themes or detail cues for decades while other brands toss away the past when launching a total redesign.

I'll be touching on this choice from time to time in future posts because it's an interesting subject, given the huge financial risk taken when retooling a car line.

The continuity school of thought holds that, since a good deal of money has been invested in establishing a brand image and if sales have been satisfactory, it's best to build on that widely recognized image. Luxury makes such as Mercedes, Rolls-Royce and (at one time) Packard also did not want loyal customers left in the lurch in the form of a total makeover.

The change-everything rationale is less clear. Where an existing design is a sales failure, it makes sense to wipe the styling slate clean to eradicate a bad image. The case for clean-slating a successful design is harder for me to grasp. Perhaps the thinking is that Brand X already has the image of being progressive/innovative, and something different is what buyers have come to expect. Or maybe corporate management doesn't accept or perhaps even understand the logic of continuity.

I bring this up because Chrysler is expected to offer a major facelift for its once-popular 300 series sedan for the 2012 model year. If the company could afford to create a new "platform" this might be really interesting: To what degree should a successful design be tampered with?

Chrysler's styling history tends toward the clean-slate school. Consider these designs from the past 20 or so years:

Chrysler New Yorker - 1988
This is a version of the famous "K" platform of the early 1980s that helped save Chrysler Corporation under the helm of Lee Iacocca.

Chrysler Concorde - 1993
By the early 1990s, the K line was becoming old-hat and in need of replacement. Tom Gale, Chrysler styling supremo 1985-2000, was instrumental in creating a totally different replacement.The new styling concept was called "cab-forward" where the driving position was sited closer to the front of the car and the boxy K lines were replaced by a more rounded, more aerodynamic shape. This design was risky because it deviated somewhat from the competition, but it resulted in better sales than in the declining years of the K styling.

Chrysler Concorde - 2001
The 1998 model year saw a new (or perhaps extremely-heavily facelifted) cab-forward design. The previous image was continued, but in even more rounded form. As this style began to age, Chrysler was faced with the choice of continuing the cab-forward look or trying something different.

Chrysler 300 - 2006
Chrysler came up with something radically different for the 2005 model year -- the almost instantly-iconic 300 styling mated to rear-wheel drive (the other cars shown above had front-wheel drive). A sort of continuity was effected by using the traditional Chrysler "medal" insignia and a grille treatment that echoed the "woven" look of late-1940s Chrysler grilles. But these touches were minor in the context of the at-the-time shocking styling. I suspect the change happened because the cab-forward theme had been pushed about as far as possible and had been in production in one form or another for more than a decade; another round of it would have meant seriously stale styling.

Based on photos I saw recently of the facelifted 2012 Dodge version of the 300, windows likely will be enlarged. To what extent the style character of the car is to be changed remains to be seen. I'll provide a styling analysis when the 2012 models are announced.

A Lot of Picasso Goes a Short Way

Man with a Straw Hat and an Ice Cream Cone - 1938
The Seattle Art Museum has been running an exhibit of Pablo Picasso works from the Musée National Picasso in Paris. It's a larger-than-average show for the museum and they've promoted it heavily.

My wife has been gently hounding me to take her to see it for some time now, but we've been traveling a lot and only got around to doing the deed yesterday.

Crowds were large. I'd assumed that we'd simply waltz in, wave our museum membership cards at the ticket desk and then troop through the exhibit. Instead, we had a two and a half hour wait before our appointed entry-time slot. A chat with a museum staffer revealed that it was the holiday season (and perhaps the impending January 17th show closing) that was bringing in the masses.

When our turn finally came, all I could manage was a fast walk-though, pausing only in the section featuring photographs of Picasso, his women and other friends. The paintings and sculptures ranged from at least his Blue Period through the rest of his career, including the painting at the head of this post. I didn't notice very early works (which I'll be writing about soon).

Contrarian that I am, I can tolerate Picasso only in extremely small doses. Even the small-ish Picasso museum in Antibes, France was an overdose so far as I'm concerned. What I saw in Seattle was room after room, wall after wall of what I consider truly awful, pointless doodling. Doodles that, thanks to the public relations genius of Picasso and perhaps his art dealers, were often quickly painted with the potential for easy sales at good prices -- a situation beyond dreams for most artists.

Finally came the moment of climax and revelation. The Picasso exhibit's exit happened to empty into the museum's small collection of 15th - 18th century art. From crude, distorted Picasso, viewers confronted images that they could relate to as human beings -- setting aside any matters of artistic quality.

So why was there such a large crowd? Did most or all the attendees genuinely like Picasso's works? Did they come simply because Picasso is famous? Might they have come because -- formally or informally -- they acquired the notion that Picasso was A Great Master Who Must Be Loved -- Or Else! (I kid about the "Or Else." Sort of.)

It's possible that there have been studies dealing with art appreciation and how people with different degrees of art knowledge come to their current tastes. Perhaps I'll make time to do a Web search on this or maybe a reader already knows and might post a comment. In my case, Picasso was an artist that "everyone" (who counted, based on my reading when I was high school and college age) asserted had significance and greatness. So I bought into that perspective even though I found only a tiny number of his works likable.

I finally came to trust my instincts, which is why I hardly paused during my stroll through the rooms of the Seattle Picasso show.

Cell Phones Costing Thousands

Cell phone prices can be a little hard to figure out because they're often part of a service usage package. For instance, a basic phone might be priced as "free" if a buyer commits to a certain service period, two years, say. That said, a cell phone without lots of features might well cost someplace in the range $100-$200.

In contrast, there's the Vertu cell phone line where prices are in the thousands -- many, many thousands of dollars in some cases.

As the Wikipedia link above reports, Frank Nuovo, Nokia's head designer (at the time) was instrumental in creation of the Nokia-bankrolled company; now he serves as head designer at Vertu. The Vertu web site's history page stresses technical innovation related to the "package" -- not the electronic guts -- and the use of precious, luxury materials in some models.

Vertu cell phone with Ferrari motifs

I had never heard of Vertu until a few years ago while strolling through the shop arcade at the Wynn hotel-casino complex in Las Vegas. Right there amongst shops for Chanel, Manolo Blahnik and the like was a Vertu store. The phones on display were attractive and their prices astonishing. I assumed Vertu wouldn't last, yet the store remains: I saw it last month while in town.

Here's my problem with Vertu. Cell phones are still part of a rapidly-evolving corner of technology and marketing. The technology goes from Gen-This to Gen-That every few years. Not to mention the evolution towards multifunctionality: consider inclusion of cameras, the tiny-keypad Blackberry and Apple's multi-app iPhone. Vertu thus far remains a pretty basic cell phone if all the fancy construction and luxury touches are set aside. So a buyer forks out thousands of dollars for one and a year or two later yet another Gen-jump occurs. So what does he do? Keep his luxury item while lagging capability-wise? Or does he spend more thousands for a newer version? I suppose folks who are utterly rich would do the latter without much thought. They might even upgrade so as to have a Vertu with a different décor than that tiresome one purchased last spring. After all, a Vertu phone is all those luxury touches I set aside earlier in this paragraph.

An interesting thing about luxury items is the price multiple over a similar item offering the same core functionality. For automobiles, the ratio can be ten or 20 to one -- a Maseratti Quattroporte goes for about ten times as much as a really cheap, small Korean-made car and some Rolls-Royces for double that.

Ratios are much higher for wristwatches. A cheap watch with a digital face can be had for only a few dollars whereas a middle-line Rolex sells in the thousands. But watch technology and functionality are pretty stable, so a wristwatch purchase can be considered akin to buying jewelery. I suppose the same can be said regarding Vertu, though the functional foundation is far softer.

Yes, There Really Are Real Microsoft Stores

As of this writing there are seven honest-to-goodness, tangible, non-virtual places you actually can walk into: Microsoft Stores -- not to be confused with a part of the corporation's web site.

Dense me, I had no idea Bill Gates' little start-up had graduated from bits and pixels to bricks and mortar until last month, when a store opened not far from its Redmond headquarters in Bellevue's classy Bellevue Square shopping mall. It's the latest one: in 2009 stores opened in Scottsdale and Mission Viejo. This year others opened in: Lone Tree, Colorado; San Diego; Oak Brook, Illinois; and Bloomington, Minnesota -- the last two just before the one in Bellevue.

The likely reason why I wasn't aware of Microsoft's retail push is that I've been drifting away from Windows-based computers to Macs and only knew about Apple Stores, a very handy resource.

Since a Microsoft Store might be coming to your neck of the woods, I thought I'd show you what you might find on that happy day. Here are some photos I took at Bellevue Square:

Looks a lot like an Apple Store, doesn't it?

The layout is similar -- tables with computers and gadgets that use Microsoft software (they are for sale, too), wall racks of software packages and peripheral equipment such are cables and mice, and there's even a counter near the rear where one can get technical advice.

Moveover, the place was jumping when I gave it a walk-through; even busier than the smaller, usually jammed Apple Store a few doors down the mall. Could this have been because the whole mall was hopping thanks to Christmas shoppers? Was it the store's novelty? Might it have been due to the fact that the Seattle area is Microsoft's home turf?

Beats me.

Sinister-Looking Car

Selecting a styling theme for an automobile is a tricky business. For that reason, many car designs have tended to be bland or highly derivative -- remember back around 1980 when a number of brands featured boxy styling that clearly was inspired by Mercedes-Benz?

There is the related, but hard to put one's finger on, factor of "personality:" consider the various iterations of the cute Volkswagen "Beetle" or Plymouth/Dodge Neon from the mid-1990s. Luxury makes often attempt to look dignified -- stately and conservative. In general, where personality is consciously injected into a design, it is something positive that a potential buyer might relate to.

So why then did Honda's Acura brand move to a style image that strikes me as being sinister?

Acura TL - 2010

Acura has been a runner-up near-luxury make. It hasn't had a racing heritage image such as Mercedes or Maserati or a performance-sedan persona like BMW's. And so far as I can judge, it never was skewed to one driver-sex; not a "chick car" nor "guy car."

Well, now it's a male-image car; a sub-middle-aged male one. Note all those sharp cuts and angled shapes in the grille and trunk areas.

This is not to say that only youngish, car-performance freak guys will be the only buyers. Still, I can't believe Honda consciously wants to abandon other, larger demographic market segments. Perhaps they simply want the car to be "edgy" (in more than one context), and are placing a bet on the Bob Lutz concept: Intense approval for some buyers is better for sales than blandness that doesn't have much effect one way or another.

Me? I don't mind the looks of the Acura TL and would consider buying one if I had the money and was needful of a new car. Though it might not be my first choice.

An Unneeded Restoration

The photo above shows an idealized version of Restoration Hardware's new showroom look. (The company's Web site is here and the Wikipedia entry here.)

The somber, pervasive decor has attracted some negative blogger comment this past week. But the showroom makeover is more pervasive, a huge mistake in my opinion.

Yesterday I was in the University Village store looking for light switch and socket covers. Restoration Hardware used to have a nice little display of such items, but not any more. A clerk told me I could order such hardware items through a catalog. I do not want to look at a catalog; I want to see and touch the items before buying. The store was missing lots of other cute and nifty items.

It has become Just Another Home Furnishings Store -- one currently with little choice of color and decorative theme if my first impression was vadid.

What on earth was management thinking?

Retail: To Niche or Not to Niche

A number of years ago -- in the 1990s? -- I walked into an Eddie Bauer store shopping for a windbreaker jacket. And discovered that they no longer sold winter jackets; their entire product line was now sportswear.

I staggered out in shock (slight exaggeration), long-term memories of Eddie supplying Mount Everest climbers and all sorts of other out-doorsey folks their garment needs rattling around my skull.

Rather than hitting its sales mark, Eddie Bauer eventually hit the wall. A couple of ownership changes later, the company is now returning to its outdoor togs roots with a vengeance, stressing Jim Whittaker's Bauer-clad Everest exploits to the point of adding a Whittaker product line.

Let me add that, after ignoring Eddie Bauer for several years, I'm shopping there again. Whether enough others are doing the same remains to be seen. But at least the company is distancing itself from the run-of-the-mill sportswear crowd.

I have no direct experience in retail rag-trade marketing. I rubbed elbows with marketing staffs as a data supplier, but that was about it. My perspective is that of a casual customer, so take what follows with that caveat.

In retrospect, the Eddie Bauer strategy of forsaking its outdoors roots in pursuit of a supposedly larger market segment was a mistake. Casual observer me has trouble sorting out distinctions between store chains selling sportswear. To some degree I can identify companies that strongly focus on the youth segment (Hollister, Abercrombie & Fitch, etc), but otherwise I have no strong images regarding product-line "personalities."

This is not to say that each retailer doesn't make at least some effort to be distinctive and that hard-core sportswear shoppers indeed understand and appreciate such differences. But not all shoppers are hard-core, and failure to attract enough of these can damage a balance-sheet.

Eddie Bauer's new risk is that it's facing a set of competitors that have had years to recruit loyal customers that Eddie had lost and now must peel away. Recreation-wear is a smaller niche than sportswear, and competition is equally fierce. This is why Eddie Bauer is going to great lengths to stress Mt. Everest, World War 2 aviation gear, sports fishing togs and other strong outdoors-related themes. The company may yet "auger in" as test pilots put it, but it's taking a tack that makes more sense to me than its previous efforts.

Conclusion? The thought of working in any aspect of the rag trade scares the hell out of me.