There was a time when a trip to the department store meant more than buying a shirt or replacing a toaster. Families planned an afternoon around it. Children looked forward to the toy department, adults met friends for lunch, and Christmas windows drew crowds before anyone stepped inside.
Names such as Gimbels, Marshall Field’s and Wanamaker’s belonged to the cities around them. Their flagship stores were landmarks, gathering places and, for generations of customers, part of the family calendar.
Shopping could be an occasion worth dressing for.
The great downtown department stores helped create that experience. Grand entrances, elaborate displays, restaurants and holiday decorations encouraged customers to linger. Some offered music and other attractions that made a visit feel closer to an outing than an errand.
Their variety was equally impressive. Clothing, shoes, furniture, toys and housewares occupied different departments under one enormous roof. Shoppers could move between floors and discover merchandise they had never intended to buy.
For customers accustomed to visiting several small shops, the convenience was remarkable.
Then American life began moving outward.
After World War II, suburban growth and widespread automobile ownership changed shopping habits. Downtown stores had thrived on busy sidewalks and public transportation. Suburban families increasingly wanted nearby stores and somewhere convenient to park.
Department stores followed them.
Shopping centers, and later enclosed malls, offered space for large branches surrounded by parking lots. By the 1960s and 1970s, department stores were the anchors that helped make the mall work. Positioned at opposite ends of the complex, they attracted shoppers who passed smaller retailers along the way.
The Saturday trip downtown became the Saturday afternoon at the mall.
Parents browsed appliances and clothing. Children inspected toys. Teenagers discovered a place where they could meet friends, wander around and enjoy a little independence without traveling very far.
But the businesses holding down those enormous anchor spaces were beginning to face competition from several directions.
Kmart, Walmart and Target all launched their discount-store brands in 1962. Their appeal was straightforward: everyday merchandise at lower prices, sold in stores that placed less emphasis on elegance and service.
Traditional department stores had large buildings, extensive inventories and substantial operating expenses. Competing on price became increasingly difficult.
Specialty chains applied pressure from another direction. Stores such as the Gap, Ann Taylor and Express concentrated on particular shoppers and narrower categories. Customers looking for a specific fashion or fit could bypass the department store altogether.
The promise of “everything under one roof” was losing some of its power.
Then the internet gave shoppers a roof they never had to leave.
Amazon began selling books online in 1995, and eBay launched that same year. As online retail expanded, customers gained the ability to compare prices, search inventories and order merchandise at any hour.
The department store’s vast selection, once a major advantage, was competing with a searchable marketplace that could fit in someone’s hand.
Online shopping did not single-handedly cause the decline. Suburban shifts, discount competition, specialty retailers and changing customer habits had already weakened the traditional model. The internet accelerated those changes.
Department stores still have a place in American retail. Familiar chains continue adapting through online sales, revised merchandise selections and changes to their physical stores.
What has faded is the expectation that visiting one should be an event.
Buying something is often easier now. But a delivery box on the porch offers little of the anticipation that once came with a downtown Christmas window, an elevator ride to the toy floor or lunch in the store restaurant.
The merchandise was only part of what people went there for.
