Condolences on your mall.

My mother could always spot a trend.

Whether it was -- food, fashion, cars or furniture, she was always up on the latest.  One of my favorite scenes in the “Godfather” trilogy is Connie's wedding.  Frank Pantangeli is complaining to Freddo about the food being served. “A kid comes up to me in a white jacket, gives me a Ritz cracker, and uh, chopped liver, he says Canapés. I say uh, uh, can o' peas myass, that's a Ritz cracker and chopped liver!” When my mother first adopted the custom of serving canapes with cocktails, nobody understood it.  She explained that it was something new she’d read about in one of the top women’s magazines of the day.   It was supposed to be a more “social” way of serving cocktails before dinner.  You could absorb the alcohol content in your Manhattan or Martini without getting drunk.  Mom usually made an enormous antipasto before a big Italian dinner on holidays but she opted for the canapes when the meal was more traditional, like prime rib, Cornish game hen or lobster.

She was a firm believer in tradition.  Buying school clothes for my sister and me meant a full day's outing with a special lunch.  The same with our Easter outfits.  We bought a spring dress, possibly a new coat, usually pastel, new shoes and a hat. We always needed a bonnet for church.  My sister was a difficult shopper.  When she was trying on one pair of shoes she was already anticipating trying on the next pair.  This was the time when I thought to myself how lucky my brother was, being in military school with his wardrobe chosen for him.  He was never subjected to the torture of having to go shoe shopping with my sister Jo.

One spring Saturday morning my mother announced we were going Easter shopping at a mall in Stamford, Connecticut.  It would be a wonderful experience because there were several nice, new stores in one central area.  She knew about Lord & Taylor – it had a parking lot and there was a lady’s tea room where they served finger sandwiches.  The ride from Pelham along the Saw Mill River Parkway  was pleasant but seemed interminable (a fact  not wasted on me).  I asked, " Hey Mom, can we drive to Chicago next Saturday?  I think there are some good stores there too.”  My mother glanced at me in her rearview mirror, “Okay, Wise guy, that’s enough!” When we finally reached Lord & Taylor Jo and I were immediately struck by its elegant beauty, the sleek architecture and the window scenes.  We were both silent as if we were entering St. Patrick's cathedral.   The store was stunning and spacious.  My mother asked where to find girls dresses and we took the escalator up to girls dress heaven   The prices were astronomical but I wondered if they had a pretty dress with a full skirt and crinoline which didn't cost a fortune?  Jo and I fit into one dressing room and brought in two dresses each. We zipped each other up and paraded around.  Mom was already bringing in new dresses, telling us which one to try on next.  We often referred to her as Ike. 

By the time we had chosen THE Easter outfits it was time to hit the tea room for lunch.  The finger sandwiches were arranged four on a plate. Ham and cheese, egg salad, tuna salad and cucumber – all on soft white bread minus the crust.  They also served a choice of Vichyssoise, small salad or fruit salad.  Now we were in lunch heaven.  Why hadn’t somebody in New York learned how to make tea sandwiches? The three of us found little straw hats with flowers and veils which would be perfect for Easter Sunday Mass.  The shoes were just too expensive so we left Lord & Taylor in Stamford, Connecticut with a promise to return one day when my mother’s money supply had been replenished. The malls of those days were destinations, not just for buying but for having an uplifting social bonding experience.  They were normally free-standing stores set in lush landscaping with endless choices for lunch – delis, diners, coffee shops and full service restaurants.  Something for every taste and pocketbook.

Years later in an effort to keep shoppers safe and sheltered from the elements, malls became enclosed with prominent anchor stores at either end (think Macy’s and JC Penney).  They added food courts where shoppers could get something quick to eat at a fairly cheap price.  Families could now afford to shop, eat and spend the day.  Malls eventually became social meeting places for teenage girls wearing mini skirts with too much makeup and spike heels.  Think Galleria and Valley girls.  Nowadays little kids are running wild everywhere while their mothers are busy texting on cell phones.  Young tattooed boys walk together in gangs  looking for the video arcade. Elderly people on their daily walks ignore the shop windows and the crowds of youngsters.  It’s hard to find a normal shopper looking at merchandise anymore.  It's not the window shopping and communal experience it once was.  A gentleman turned to me while we waited in line to pay and said, "I'd rather go back to Vietnam than stay here for five more minutes."  Everyone is looking for a bargain.  Security guards can’t keep up with the shoplifters.  The food courts are like bedlam.  Is it any wonder that malls throughout the country are dying?

Sbarro’s pizza and Quizno's are declaring bankruptcy. Tower Records, Borders, Circuit City, CompUSA, Blockbuster and Walden Books left huge gaping holes in some of our larger malls.  Will Sephora, Forever 21, Cinnabon and Panda Express remain unscathed?  Are the large anchor stores able to compete and still make it profitable to remain where they are for the foot traffic?  If the anchor stores go out of business can the mall survive?   I'm no Sam Walton but was once the owner/operator of a beachwear boutique.  During the early 1980s I stocked hand-painted t-shirts from a company in Santa Barbara.  When UPS would pull up behind my shop customers would insist that I open the delivery in the parking lot.  The women would reach in and help themselves to the size and color they wanted and actually throw cash at me.  I could never keep enough in stock.  "Love Boat" and two other shows would send in their wardrobe consultants and I often sold them two hundred pieces of beach or exercise wear.  They adored shopping at my boutique because they could buy something more unique and pretty.  By 1989, everything fizzled out and people had stopped their conspicuous consumption. 

Some experts believe this failing economy is sounding the death knell for fast food franchises and food courts.  Will malls be next?  Probably.  There have been several casualties already.  The grand survivors in the game are a few built by Rick Caruso like the Grove and Americana at Brand which feature apartments, condos and shuttle service.  Still, when you can sit at your computer and access an item at Amazon.com, then go to Google to compare prices and shipping options why bother to pay $4 a gallon for gas?   Finding a parking space can be exasperating.  Locating the item inside the store, standing in line to pay or finding out the store no longer carries the item, you have officially wasted your time. Ordering online is easy,  relatively safe and the item is delivered to your door.  Easy, efficient and convenient enough to stay in your pajamas -- how can you beat that? While government concerns itself with raising the minimum wage, we are not putting more people back to work which should be the goal. In this rotten economy the closing of the neighborhood mall will be disastrous.  Sadly, those who are running the show have never worked in retail and don't know much about running a business.  They have not acquainted themselves with history either.  The death of our malls may eventually bring about a renaissance of Main Street.  A community will be able to shop at a Mom and Pop store once again with the possibility of creating a more vibrant communal social life.  Goodbye Globalistas, hello neighborhood Americans!

Addendum:  Check out DeadMalls.com for more information.