Traditional store faking it in a good way
Customers of the Beijing Department Store are usually middle-aged and older people.
Fashion goes round in circles.
A 66-year-old Shanghai corner shop primarily targeting older customers is trending on social media for its nostalgic setting and merchandise that many youngsters have only seen on TV.
The cheapest is a sewing needle for 1 yuan (15 US cents), and the most popular are chamber pots and short vest-like detachable "fake collars."
"Fake collars" were invented by Shanghai locals decades ago so they could appear presentable, while also saving money by changing and washing only the collar instead of an entire shirt. Locals also called it an "economic collar."
Shanghai Daily searched for "fake collars" on various e-commerce sites, and the few results showed fashionable accessories like half-vest or wide belts, not the traditional ones that the corner shop sells – more than 3,000 pieces a year.
"In a 'fake collar,' there is a changing taste and history of the city," said store manager Zhang Lehua.
"At its peak in the 1970s, young men and women queued up for this fashionable item. Later, people gradually became ashamed for wearing it. Now again, many old people can't find 'fake collars' anywhere else. They show off to family and friends because of its uniqueness."
Another large group of customers who buy "fake collars" from the shop are cab drivers or guards who are required to wear collared shirts but prefer more comfortable T-shirts. So they add a "fake collar" on top of their casual T-shirts.
Wearing oversleeves and the shop's specially ordered "fake collars," Zhang has been standing behind the counter of the Beijing Department Store for 44 years, rising from an apprentice with a monthly pay of 17.8 yuan (US$2.75) to its manager. Now his monthly pay is "quite good," according to him.
Despite the name, it is neither Beijing nor a department store. It is named Beijing for its location at the corner of Beijing Road E. and Shimen No. 2 Road. Instead of a large department store occupying several floors, it is more like a small corner shop selling hundreds of different items.
The Beijing Department Store, located on Beijing Road E. and Shimen No. 2 Road, is more like a corner shop.
"Many people think we can buy everything online nowadays. Well, not necessarily," Zhang said. "Some goods are too cheap or considered outdated so online vendors don't bother to supply them, while some others are specially ordered by me, according to my observation of changing customer demands. You can't find them anywhere else, online or offline."
He added: "Don't forget the older people who don't know how to shop online, don't trust e-commerce or can't pay with a mobile phone. The majority of our customers are middle-aged and older people. Some of them have been shopping here for decades."
The shop is somewhat "anti-trend" in the digital age. It has no online shop, nor any social media accounts. Most customers pay by cash and Zhang writes down every transaction in a little blue book.
"I come here every few weeks to get a supply of some traditional brands," said Wang Zhenling, a 58-year-old retired teacher who used to live nearby. "I can't exactly remember my first visit, but it was in my childhood with my parents. I have moved long ago and it takes an hour to get here now, but I'm used to it."
Zhang talked with Shanghai Daily amidst a constant inflow of customers. Most were older people and returning customers like Wang, with an occasional mix of young first-comers looking around the place with curiosity. Some also posed for selfies, like 23-year-old Sally Zhao.
"It's quite cool to see such a nostalgic shop in downtown Shanghai," she said, while posing for a photo outside the shop. "The atmosphere is authentic because the shop really existed for all these years, not recreated for the sake of attracting customers."
Zhang is happy to see increasingly more curious young customers.
"Since we got trending on the Internet, you can see some young people every day, curious about everything in the shop, though they rarely make a purchase," Zhang said as he flipped through a pile of "fake collars" all carrying the shop's logo.
"Business is good and we even have our own labels like this. But it's taken a very long time."
Indeed, the thriving scene today makes it hard to imagine that the shop was once struggling to survive.
At its peak, the department store had eight branches. Today, this is the only one that has survived. It has been downsized, and moved meters down the road from its original location.
Zhang Lehua has been working at the Beijing Department Store for over four decades.
When Zhang was born in 1958, it was three years after several small vendors were merged into a store and repair shop, fixing things like broken umbrellas or rain boots while selling groceries on the side.
Zhang was assigned to the shop as an apprentice at the age of 19, a year before China's reform and opening-up in 1978. Under a planned economy where some necessities were rationed, repairs were big business. For the first three years, Zhang was always repairing broken umbrellas, in addition to cotton shirts, wool shirts and cooking pot.
"Occasionally, you can still see very old customers coming here asking whether their wool sweaters can be repaired," Zhang said. "It often costs more to repair than making a new purchase now, but those occasional customers remind us all of the interesting history of the store."
In 1984, seven years after Zhang joined the shop, Beijing's Tianqiao Department Store became China's first joint-stock company, allowing individuals to become shareholders. By 1988, nearly 4,000 previously state- or collectively owned enterprises had been restructured and about a third of them were in Shanghai.
China's economy started to take off and the repairs business was in decline. The grocery part expanded, and the shop adopted its current name in 1992. It was also restructured as a joint-stock company. All 10 employees, including Zhang, became shareholders. Fixed monthly pay was replaced by profit-oriented commission.
Many state-owned enterprises accustomed to the planned economy were forced to face the market directly. Foreign products flowed in and many traditional brands and shops either faded away or strove for market-oriented development.
Zhang belonged to the latter.
"It was very difficult for a while. We just tried to catch every opportunity possible, looking for new business, grasping the small business leaked between crevices that were overlooked by big corporations," Zhang said. He said they had the hardest time in the 1990s.
"At first, it was all about surviving and we had no clear marketing strategy. Now we are fairly clear about our target customers and unique advantages," he said. "We sell what other stores don't, have better products than others do, and focus on specially ordered or cheaper merchandise to compete with rivals who offer general good-quality products."
For example, "fake collars" now come in all sizes and materials in the store, and Zhang can tell a customer's size from a glimpse of his or her neck.
"We sell whatever our customers need," Zhang said, pointing to a sign that says "model post of CPC member."
"I'm also a Party member (for 16 years), and this sign indicates that I'm supposed to do more and better. Hopefully I can fulfil this expectation, as currently I'm not considering retirement at all," he added.
