Retail Feast And Famine
By the time you read this, Ikea in Denver will have been open just shy of two weeks. The opening event has been described as “IKEA-pocalypse,” other local furniture stores have been defensively advertising (“You don’t have to build our furniture yourself” and my personal favorite, “We’re the furniture store right next to Ikea!“), and people did indeed camp out up to three days before the store opened, in order to be first in line for a free sofa.
In a time period when the US approached a default on its debt obligations, backed away from the cliff with hours to spare, and then was punished by S&P anyway for all the trouble, the city of Centennial closed roads and diverted traffic using an AM radio station and highway signs for real-time updates in order to route people either to Ikea, or as far away from it as possible.
So this weekend, the second weekend open, I decided to see what all the fuss is about. I’ve been to Ikea stores before, and I am an admitted fan of self-assembled furniture (my husband and I are a pro team at working together to assemble this stuff – an effort that is more typically grounds for divorce). But I’d never seen an opening, and couldn’t believe that there was THIS MUCH pent up demand for flat-pack furniture in the Denver metro area.
It was too early to go. That’s my first conclusion. Ten days of being open was not enough for that pent up demand to be assuaged. We drove amid a good twenty people directing traffic and controlling crowds on foot. We parked in the office building lot next door and trekked up the hill to the big blue building, just to join a queue worthy of Disneyland. We were told as we joined it that it would be a good 30-45 minutes before we would get inside (turned out to be more like 20). Everyone was good-natured and excited to see the deals that Ikea is famous for.
It took us two hours to get out of there. Not because we were shopping that long, but because that was as fast as you could go, swept along by the tide of humanity that wandered along Ikea’s showroom floor. It got easier downstairs, but getting there was a supreme effort. I don’t know how anyone bought any big-ticket items on Sunday. There was no way you could get your car close enough to the place to strap the boxes to your roof. For the record, we bought a chair.
Exhausted and hungry, my family decided to go to the mall to get something to eat (Swedish meatballs were out of the question — the line was at least an hour long, and once you got your meal, good luck finding a seat). The mall, too, was very crowded, though not on Ikea’s scale. This weekend and next are the last two for back-to-school shopping before most of the schools open around here (my kids went back to school last week). It seems that a lot of people were determined to finish their shopping at the mall this weekend.
However, while walking through the mall (Park Meadows for those playing along at home), we spotted the Borders store there — Park Meadows was one of the first stores to be renovated in the design that was going to help save the company last time around — and it was supremely sad to see the “Up to 40% off!!” signs screaming from every window. What struck me the most, though, was this: the hardback featured in the window was marked down to an “incredible savings!!!” of $15.49. While walking through Ikea, the item that stuck with me more than anything was the small frying pan (more of an omelet pan, but I don’t think the item was quite that discerning) for $2.99. Yes, two dollars and ninety-nine cents, no typo there.
That contrast really struck me, just as much as the completely different energy levels of the two retailers’ stores struck me. Ikea, rolling in positive energy and customers. Borders, depressing as shark-like shoppers hunted out the few discounted gems that were left on the shelves, which were in the process of being tagged for a fixture sale. Yeah, two different verticals. But also two completely different value propositions, and a distinction that is an important one in today’s era of retailing.
Ikea has stripped all of the non-value-added things out of its products to make them affordable for consumers. It’s an explicit relationship — no assembly provided (unless you want to pay extra for that), no extra packaging, no delivery (unless you want to pay extra for that), minimal help on the sales floor (though strategically placed at the highly configurable items and in the self-serve area). And in return, frying pans for $3. The publishing industry, on the other hand (and this applies to a lot of media — music and movies included), is trying to add more to the product to justify a higher price. “It’s signed by the author!” “It includes an introduction by someone you’ve never heard of!” Rather than looking to take out the things that aren’t as valuable — like the printed page and the transportation costs of shipping said printed page — the book industry is fighting it tooth and nail, with no regard to what the customer wants out of the deal.
The lesson for retail? In my opinion, it is possible, and important for retailers to differentiate based on service and experience as a way to justify a higher price. But choice is always going to be an important part of that differentiation. Ikea has chosen to compete based on choice — yes, it appears to be price. But If you want an Ikea kitchen, and you don’t want to do it yourself, I have a strong suspicion that it will cost you just as much as a Home Depot kitchen when all the extra assembly and installation costs are added in. They’ve just made those services explicit options — not included in the base price. Publishers refused to do that. They have fought Amazon hard to not make the printed page and shipping an explicit choice for consumers — and have seen a huge chunk of that distribution channel go away as a result at the same time that only the most popular books seem capable of sustaining digital prices of more than five dollars.
Retail is feast or famine right now — you can be Ikea, or you can be Borders. The flexible retailers — the ones ready to move to meet consumers’ desired choices — are the ones that are going to win.