The high street unchained

HMV's flagship store in Oxford Street. Photo by
Edward (commons.wikimedia.org).

The loss of high street stores HMV, Blockbusters and Jessops is sad news, especially for the thousands of employees who find themselves out of work. General belief seems to be that these - along with Woolworths - may be the first to go, but they certainly won't be the last. The internet and supermarkets simply have too much power - economies of scale mean they can offer products at ever-cheaper prices and stock pretty much everything you could ever want, and in the case of internet shopping at any time day or night.

One of the big questions is what this might mean for our high streets. As more chains fail, will our towns be overtaken by endless charity shops, bookmakers, mobile phone shops and pound shops? A few years ago there was something of an outcry about ghost towns and clone towns - town centres abandoned as shoppers move to out-of-town malls and retail parks or high streets that look exactly the same wherever you might be. The authors of that study can hardly have known just how accurate their predictions might be.

A different way
But does it really have to be like that? Back in the deep and distant past, the first video-rental shop my parents were a member of was a small, independent store. It was killed off by the likes of Blockbuster, and, no doubt, the advent of cheap videos in chains like HMV. Could it be that the loss of national chain stores will open the way for small independent shops to rise again? If, as predicted, more chains will go, it will leave behind a vacuum that will be filled one way or another.

It won't be easy. If the internet can see off national, (once) successful household names like HMV, then it can certainly beat off competition from an indie. But difficult doesn't have to mean impossible, and a savvy indie can survive, and even - dare I say it? - be successful. Running an independent store these days is very different from back when I used to visit that video-rental place. For one thing to make a success of things now requires a pretty high-profile web presence. And that doesn't just mean having a nice-looking website. No, today customer engagement is also about Twitter, Facebook, blogging, eNewsletters and more. It's about using all these (often free) platforms to keep your customers' attention.

In my little corner of north London there are knitting shops Nest (Crouch End) and Knit With Attitude (Stoke Newington) as well as bookshops the Big Green Bookshop (Wood Green) and the Stoke Newington Bookshop (unsurprisingly Stoke Newington again). Further afield is Cambridge's The Sheep Shop, another knitting shop. All of these outlets have several things in common. Firstly they're all active online - blogging, tweeting, Facebooking or keeping customers aware of their goings-on via newsletters.

Knit With Attitude in Stoke Newington, London.
Photo by Knit With Attitude.

Customer service
Any shop, online or on the high street, can sell you a ball of wool, some needles and a pattern book, and you can bet that Amazon, eBay or Tesco can do it more cheaply than most. But can Amazon, eBay or Tesco tell a beginner knitter what makes a good starter project? Or advise on which yarn to substitute for the lovely but pricey Debbie Bliss Cashmerino? Or extol the virtues of circular needles over straights? I can, and I'm sure the ladies at Nest, Knit With Attitude and The Sheep Shop can too.

Similarly, a while a go I happened to mention to one of the owners of The Big Green Bookshop that I was waiting (and waiting and waiting) for the next book in George RR Martin's opus A Song of Fire and Ice. He suggested I read Joe Abercrombie. Some few years later I've read every book Abercrombie's published and he's one of my favourite authors. Think you'd get that kind of service from Tesco? Yes, Amazon has recommendations, but sometimes they seem so random that the criteria is nothing more than Hey! You bought a book, here are some more books! It also can't distinguish between items bought for oneself and those bought for friends or family. So my Amazon account is currently trying to offer me CDs similar to Michael Buble (bought for my mum), Frank Sinatra (my dad) and Twisted Sister (my brother).

Don't get me wrong. I use Amazon. I bought the majority of last year's Christmas presents there. The choice is phenomenal and the prices right. I can't get the CDs my brother wants for the same price anywhere else. I can even get everything delivered straight to my parents' house so I don't have to lug is all from London to Cambridge. But I suspect - although I don't have any evidence - that brand loyalty to these 'pile 'em high, sell 'em cheap' emporia is pretty non-existent. If eBay or Tesco can provide the same products cheaper or quicker then we'll go there. The only thing that keeps us from swapping more regularly is inertia.

Amazon can offer choice and cheap, what it can't offer is personal service. And it's that that breeds brand loyalty. Find a local store staffed by real people who know their product and loyalty will follow. If you know you'll get great service, wouldn't you be willing to stump up a bit more cash or go a bit out of your way?

Stoke Newington Bookshop, London. Photo by
Tony Corsini (commons.wikimedia.org).

Belonging
There's another 'C' that Amazon, Tesco and the like can't offer: community. This is especially significant in London, but I think it’s important everywhere, even the sleepiest of villages. I’ve lived in London for nearly 13 years, and in that time I’ve lived in five different boroughs. The only time I’ve ever felt like I belonged to a community has been in the last three years and part of that is because I joined two knitting groups and one book group. One of the knitting groups was at a pub, the other two meetings were organised by and took place in shops.

All of the stores I’ve mentioned above run various meetings, classes and activities, making themselves important parts of their local community while also helping to create that community, that sense of belonging to something that is missing from so much of modern life. Another example would be Theatre of Wine in Greenwich, with its wine club and monthly tastings and knowledgeable staff.

What I’m advocating is a return to a time when retail was career that imparted knowledge and skills, when staff and managers understood what they were selling and could offer well-thought-out advice, when customer service was important and staff were invested and interested in what they did. Sounds crazy doesn’t it? But it could work.

• Many thanks to Charlie Moores (Talking Naturally), Annie Martin (Annie Sparkles) and others on Twitter and Facebook for comments and thoughts.