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only at the bay
5
November 18th, 2009Rumination
Hudson’s Bay Co., Portage Ave. store, July 29, 1929
This Was Winnipeg points out cool history facts every day, and one today is this:
November 18, 1926 – The Portage and Memorial Bay store opens for business at 9:00 am. The ceremony includes George Galt, HBC Board Member, using a golden key to unlock the Portage Avenue doors.
This I have spent a lot of time in this the Bay* downtown over the years, largely because I’ve passed through it on my way home for, oh, eight years or so.
In a post earlier this month, Emma at Winnipeg O’ My Heart mentioned the Bay in a post about Downtown Issues. She writes:
To me, the epitome of this is The Bay. Have you been to The Bay downtown? Structurally, it’s amazing. Stately pillars. Mile-high ceilings. Hardwood floors. The ladies’ bathroom is a snapshot in time: there are banks of little vanities where you can actually sit down on a chair, place your purse on the counter, and fix your hair or lipstick. It’s the sort of thing you’d expect to see in a film set, not in modern day. It’s wonderful. And yet, the store is run down. There seems to be no sense of pride in the gem we have on our hands. (And I was really surprised to see it made the Sun’s list of 100 reasons to love Winnipeg.) This Bay doesn’t seem to be given as much attention as the ones in the malls.
I agree with her take. The Bay Downtown is simultaneously amazing and depressing, especially if you venture beyond the first floor (which is dominated by shiny cosmetics counters staffed by smiling, impeccably-coiffed women). I usually only visit the third floor (women’s wear) and the basement (where there’s a quaint, outdated, but quite serviceable and affordable grocery store, as well as a bizarre assortment of clearance goods).
Bay Basement Grocery photo by Jason Penner (check out his Flickr stream for more great shots from the Bay Basement)
As a shopper and a style-hound, the Bay’s women’s clothing department is an essential stop for me, especially because I don’t have a car and can’t get out to the suburbs’ big box stores very often. Great deals on designer and designer-quality garments can be found there, more often than not in chaotic clearance racks. The deals are easier to find than the staff people. Getting service in the Bay — anywhere in the Bay — is really difficult. I don’t know if it has to do with my age or what.
My friend Cynara is the one who showed me how to shop effectively at the Bay. She was the one who cracked the code for me on the strange layout of the women’s department, pointing out where the plus-size racks were and where extra plus-size garments were seeded elsewhere on the floor. (She taught me a lot about shopping, actually — things like, always try it on, make your decisions on a per-garment basis, not on a brand or store-of-origin basis.)
Cynara in one of her amazing outfits (skirt and shoes sourced at the Bay)
A fun thing about shopping at the Bay is that often the item price when they ring it up will be less than marked, due to a constantly rotating schedule of sales and, I think, the fact that they just don’t get around to updating the tags.
Anyway, when I’m at the Bay, I usually feel like I’m shopping there in spite of the store’s best efforts to turn me off from the whole thing. The thing is, as a car-free urban resident, I rely on the Bay for a lot of my needs, and the case is the same for a wide variety of downtown residents. It’s almost as though the store coasts on the patronage of existing downtown denizens and has given up entirely on drawing clientele from elsewhere in the city.
Back to Cynara — she moved to Vancouver for grad school this fall, and told me that she visited the Bay there, and found it lacking the “charm” of ours. Apparently the plus size and maternity sections were ghettoized in a separate land from the rest of women’s wear (hideous fatties and pregnant ladies must be kept away from the sensitive buying public, I guess), and the selection wasn’t as inspiring. (Then again, Cynara now lives in the same city as Jane Bon Bon, so I think she’ll get over this quickly.)
Photo by Bryan Scott of Winnipeg: Love & Hate
There are always rumours about the University of Winnipeg continuing its colonization of downtown by moving into this majestic building. And, of course, there’s always plenty of doom and gloom about downtown, matched only by boosterism of questionable efficacy.
*For non-Canadians, “the Bay” is short for “the Hudson’s Bay Company,” the oldest commercial corporation in North America (incorporated 1670). It began as a fur trader and now is a general retail conglomerate.
Tags: downtown, history, shopping, winnipeg
5 Responses to “only at the bay”
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Jenny, I am so glad to read your thoughts on this. I agree with you on so many points – especially the joy of the “surprise sale price” at the register! A few thoughts of my own:
When I was growing up in a smaller city, these department stores were essential places for getting things like socks, underwear, kitchenwares, toys and games, etc. For a long time a store like the Bay was the only place you could get a decent selection (in terms of brands & styles) of almost anything. Those days are gone – you can get underwear La Senza, kitchen appliances at Costco, toys and games at Toys R Us… and almost everything at Walmart.
Nowadays, although I love the idea of department stores, the only things I can think of that I go out of my way to shop for at a department store are hosiery and bedding (and the latter is becoming less and less efficient). I also have a deep suspicion that the Bay’s gift registry is the only thing keeping them afloat for the most part. You see people in there picking up gifts who would never shop there otherwise.
The Bay in general is something I think a lot about. (And Eaton’s, too.) I do try to make a conscious effort to shop there because I like the idea of a 1-stop department store and don’t want Canada to lose this institution.
I hear that things are changing a bit with their new CEO. I only hope this means they’ll start staffing the stores with enough people to really give the level of customer service that people will remember and come back for. Staff used to know something about items in the department they worked in — now many stores have “central cash”. I can’t count the number of times I’ve gone into a fitting room with an armful of clothes and been astonished at all the discarded clothes and hangers all over the place – and been so turned off of the situation that I’ve not bothered to try on anything at all.
The Bay will have to re-earn customer loyalty, because right now, as you speculate, I bet a lot of their customers shop there out of necessity and convenience, and not out of desire. It’s not too late to turn it around, but it won’t be easy, and it needs to be done carefully. We don’t want another eaton’s aubergine flop on our hands.
Great post!
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Great post (and not just because you mention that awesome & stylish friend of yours)!
As you know, I have a deep affection for the Winnipeg Bay. Usually I am dismayed–or, let’s be honest CREEPED OUT–when people personify corporations (see every movie by Michael Moore, The Corporation) and what that says about the state of our society vis-a-vis human rights– but the Bay really feels like a character to me. It’s more than a monument to massive consumption. It’s got heart and history that show in its patrons and artifacts. It’s a struggling protagonist in the downtown landscape.
There’s something comforting about how it persists and hangs onto its roots. I feel about it how I feel about my grandparents place. I love that it retains original tile and mannequins and structures that marry the new–and sometimes old–merchandise with its history.
There were days in my undergrad where going to have a hot lunch at the paddlewheel with the septuagenarians was the highlight of my week. Especially after my grandma passed away. Visiting the bay and having a smiling purple-haired lady heap potatoes on my plate made me feel loved and taken care of.
I know that it’s unrealistic for the Bay to persist as is–businesses need to encourage consuming and the Bay, as you point out makes it difficult– and yet I want it to stay the same. I love it, lumps and all.
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@Emma – thanks for your comment! What you said about people shopping at the Bay out of necessity and convenience more than anything is very true. Because they do not make it *easy* to shop there! I stopped in after work last week for a stroll through the third floor (women’s clothing) and had to wander around for five minutes or so to figure out where to find a fitting room (the one I normally go to [by the plus section] was closed). Eventually I found it but… I always get the feeling from the staff that they resent people actually shopping at the store. It’s so weird!
I wish the Bay would capitalize on the luxury aspects a department store can offer — quality brands and better service than, say a Walmart or your run-of-the-mill mall store. I can only think of a few occasions when I’ve gotten as poor service at a Ricki’s or a Reitman’s or something along those lines!
@Cynara: basically I was blackmailing you into commenting.
I totally agree with you about the Bay being appealing in its consummate weirdness. I wonder, though, what the Polo Park Bay is like these days? Is it nicer? Or no? I never get down to Polo.
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The closest equivalent here must be Macy’s–the sale thing strikes me as very similar. You really never know what price something is going to be because there’s *always* some random sale going on.
I swung by the one in Victoria when I was last there but I don’t think I got anything.
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@Ambika: When Cynara was featured in Bust Magazine last month, she also compared the Bay to Macy’s.
(c)2005-2009 Jenny Henkelman