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During a recent visit to Seattle's Fremont district I was a bit disappointed to see that Deluxe Junk, a long-established antique/vintage store, was no longer. A vintage clothier called Private Screenings, which had been just a few steps away, went away a couple of years ago. (I was told by the Deluxe Junk proprietor that his neighbor's demise was due to a dramatic rent increase.)
That's Atomic, a vintage shop on Seattle's Capitol Hill, has been gone for awhile now.
Down in Olympia, Wash., where I was dragged kicking and screaming nearly eight years ago (time flies), there used to be, in the downtown district, two vintage clothiers, a couple-three or four antique/vintage furniture stores, and, for about a year, a store that specialized in mid-century modernist furniture and the like. Now a couple of the antique shops are no longer. We're down to one store that carries some vintage clothing, along with new inventory. There's also a store that sells used furniture, but to call it a "vintage" dealer might be misleading.
Meanwhile, I've noticed escalating prices at the (so-called?) thrift stores, especially on items that might be considered "vintage."
I'm uncertain as to what all of this might be attributed. It appears that vintage attire and home furnishings haven't lost their appeal. If anything, old stuff seems more and more popular all the time. I'm left wondering that if in this online world the hassle and expense of a bricks-and-mortar store can't be justified. You know, maybe the shops were turning a profit, but not enough of one to warrant the rent and hours and the headaches that come with dealing with whoever drags him- or herself through the door, especially when the same swag can be sold on eBay or Etsy or on one's own stand-alone website, at 1:27 a.m., while sipping a cup of coffee in one's shorts.
This is not to suggest that online sales don't present their own headaches, but knowing people who have operated marginally profitable specialty retail stores ("real" stores, not online ones), and who just grew tired of seeing their employees make more money off the operation than they ever did, well, the temptation to just pack it in and try the online thing would seem hard to resist.
My fear for the online vintage peddlers is that they'll find it increasingly difficult to find inventory at a price that allows for enough markup to make it worthwhile, what with the escalating prices at the thrift shops and with no retail store a would-be seller might visit.
Thoughts?
That's Atomic, a vintage shop on Seattle's Capitol Hill, has been gone for awhile now.
Down in Olympia, Wash., where I was dragged kicking and screaming nearly eight years ago (time flies), there used to be, in the downtown district, two vintage clothiers, a couple-three or four antique/vintage furniture stores, and, for about a year, a store that specialized in mid-century modernist furniture and the like. Now a couple of the antique shops are no longer. We're down to one store that carries some vintage clothing, along with new inventory. There's also a store that sells used furniture, but to call it a "vintage" dealer might be misleading.
Meanwhile, I've noticed escalating prices at the (so-called?) thrift stores, especially on items that might be considered "vintage."
I'm uncertain as to what all of this might be attributed. It appears that vintage attire and home furnishings haven't lost their appeal. If anything, old stuff seems more and more popular all the time. I'm left wondering that if in this online world the hassle and expense of a bricks-and-mortar store can't be justified. You know, maybe the shops were turning a profit, but not enough of one to warrant the rent and hours and the headaches that come with dealing with whoever drags him- or herself through the door, especially when the same swag can be sold on eBay or Etsy or on one's own stand-alone website, at 1:27 a.m., while sipping a cup of coffee in one's shorts.
This is not to suggest that online sales don't present their own headaches, but knowing people who have operated marginally profitable specialty retail stores ("real" stores, not online ones), and who just grew tired of seeing their employees make more money off the operation than they ever did, well, the temptation to just pack it in and try the online thing would seem hard to resist.
My fear for the online vintage peddlers is that they'll find it increasingly difficult to find inventory at a price that allows for enough markup to make it worthwhile, what with the escalating prices at the thrift shops and with no retail store a would-be seller might visit.
Thoughts?