Mayor Michael Bloomberg put it best when he said in his 2003 economic policy speech, “If New York City is a business, it isn’t Wal-Mart—it isn’t trying to be the lowest-priced product in the market. It’s a high-end product, maybe even a luxury product. New York offers tremendous value, but only for those companies able to capitalize on it.” So when New Yorkers rejoiced last week after chief executive H. Lee Scott Jr. told The New York Times that setting up shop in the city is so costly that “I don’t think it’s worth the effort,” they weren’t just celebrating the protection of would-be Wal-Mart employees or the community it may well have torn apart. They were also celebrating the protection of NYC’s long-time status as a style pioneer and its forever-rising rank among the upper class. “You have people who are just better than us and don’t want a Wal-Mart in their community,” Scott concluded indignantly. And he’s right.
A distinct difference remains between Wal-Mart and Target (often pronounced Targé), with its new Proenza Schouler fashion line, or even Costco, with its Barolo wines and plasma-screen TVs—both of which have yet to open in Manhattan proper but are in the Bronx and Brooklyn. Home Depot underwent a major makeover before it moved in circa 2004, abandoning its signature orange box for two 19th-century storefronts in the Flatiron District. And then there’s Kmart, which opened shop here back in the 1990s—a decade ago that might as well be a century—and remains the city’s dirty, little secret.
In a recent article, The New York Times reported that Manhattan’s 35,000 or so white, non-Hispanic toddlers are being raised by parents whose median income was $284,208 a year in 2005. These families represent a growing segment of the local population who don’t exactly fall into Wal-Mart’s target audience. In fact, the retailer’s target audience no doubt works for these wealthy families in some capacity or another, and why should those who work here also be able to shop here?
When I questioned Reverend Billy of the Church of Stop Shopping about the Wal-Mart change of heart, he remarked, “Twenty-eight-year-old stockbrokers imitating beatniks is not New York, that’s as much not New York as Wal-Mart coming in.” But if you look around, it seems that’s exactly what New York is, or is quickly becoming. On the one hand, the fauxbos say they’re anti-Wal-Mart because they’re pro-Mom and Pop stores, pro-union and pro-healthcare (other than Wal-Mart, who isn’t?). But the truth is, even if Wal-Mart had a moral makeover, fauxbos would never set foot inside for fear of feeling cheapened (despite their $240 jeans) due to the belief that a high price reflects high quality—though it’s not clear if that equation applies to the item or the consumer.
Then there are what Rev. Billy refers to as “The Doctoroffs”—after Deputy Mayor Dan—an equally gentrifying force in the city that, in some ways, is even more dangerous than the fauxbos. The Doctoroffs face an internal conflict when it comes to these big box stores. As consumers, their values don’t abide by Wal-Mart—they’d rather frequent Bloomingdales and Whole Foods—but as investors, Wal-Mart proves too big a temptation. Of course the Doctoroffs can only afford to shop at those high-end stores if they invest successfully, so in the end, the Wal-Marts of the world are usually triumphant.
But even if the no-good chain did make itself comfortable here in NYC, fears that it would turn the city into a welfare state are likely unjustified. Unlike small-town job markets, our economy is not dependent on Wal-Mart employees and others of similar income level, so while they might suffer, it’s not clear that the city as a whole would. That leaves one very real fear: Wal-Mart is bad for business, the city’s business, because the city has a reputation to maintain.
It’s likely that the people who would patronize Wal-Mart are the same people who would seek employment there (after all, they wouldn’t be paid enough to afford to shop elsewhere). But as Bloomberg hinted when he called Manhattan a “luxury product,” this is not the local population being showcased here in the new New York City—it’s the one being pushed out by gentrification. In fact, the folks who want to work and/or shop at Wal-Mart will have easy access to it in a few years—by then, they’ll be living in the burbs.
Unless, of course, you believe against all odds, as Rev. Billy does: “The fact that we’ve been able to keep them [Wal-Mart] out of the five boroughs for this long says we’re still New York, and we’re going to stay New York—it says it to Wal-Mart and to the yuppies at the same time.”
A distinct difference remains between Wal-Mart and Target (often pronounced Targé), with its new Proenza Schouler fashion line, or even Costco, with its Barolo wines and plasma-screen TVs—both of which have yet to open in Manhattan proper but are in the Bronx and Brooklyn. Home Depot underwent a major makeover before it moved in circa 2004, abandoning its signature orange box for two 19th-century storefronts in the Flatiron District. And then there’s Kmart, which opened shop here back in the 1990s—a decade ago that might as well be a century—and remains the city’s dirty, little secret.
In a recent article, The New York Times reported that Manhattan’s 35,000 or so white, non-Hispanic toddlers are being raised by parents whose median income was $284,208 a year in 2005. These families represent a growing segment of the local population who don’t exactly fall into Wal-Mart’s target audience. In fact, the retailer’s target audience no doubt works for these wealthy families in some capacity or another, and why should those who work here also be able to shop here?
When I questioned Reverend Billy of the Church of Stop Shopping about the Wal-Mart change of heart, he remarked, “Twenty-eight-year-old stockbrokers imitating beatniks is not New York, that’s as much not New York as Wal-Mart coming in.” But if you look around, it seems that’s exactly what New York is, or is quickly becoming. On the one hand, the fauxbos say they’re anti-Wal-Mart because they’re pro-Mom and Pop stores, pro-union and pro-healthcare (other than Wal-Mart, who isn’t?). But the truth is, even if Wal-Mart had a moral makeover, fauxbos would never set foot inside for fear of feeling cheapened (despite their $240 jeans) due to the belief that a high price reflects high quality—though it’s not clear if that equation applies to the item or the consumer.
Then there are what Rev. Billy refers to as “The Doctoroffs”—after Deputy Mayor Dan—an equally gentrifying force in the city that, in some ways, is even more dangerous than the fauxbos. The Doctoroffs face an internal conflict when it comes to these big box stores. As consumers, their values don’t abide by Wal-Mart—they’d rather frequent Bloomingdales and Whole Foods—but as investors, Wal-Mart proves too big a temptation. Of course the Doctoroffs can only afford to shop at those high-end stores if they invest successfully, so in the end, the Wal-Marts of the world are usually triumphant.
But even if the no-good chain did make itself comfortable here in NYC, fears that it would turn the city into a welfare state are likely unjustified. Unlike small-town job markets, our economy is not dependent on Wal-Mart employees and others of similar income level, so while they might suffer, it’s not clear that the city as a whole would. That leaves one very real fear: Wal-Mart is bad for business, the city’s business, because the city has a reputation to maintain.
It’s likely that the people who would patronize Wal-Mart are the same people who would seek employment there (after all, they wouldn’t be paid enough to afford to shop elsewhere). But as Bloomberg hinted when he called Manhattan a “luxury product,” this is not the local population being showcased here in the new New York City—it’s the one being pushed out by gentrification. In fact, the folks who want to work and/or shop at Wal-Mart will have easy access to it in a few years—by then, they’ll be living in the burbs.
Unless, of course, you believe against all odds, as Rev. Billy does: “The fact that we’ve been able to keep them [Wal-Mart] out of the five boroughs for this long says we’re still New York, and we’re going to stay New York—it says it to Wal-Mart and to the yuppies at the same time.”
