Remembering the heyday of the department store

If you are of a certain age, the following may evoke feelings of nostalgia.

If your shopping experiences have mostly ranged from big box to bargain outlets and online, you’ve probably missed out on a few iconic experiences.

Full disclosure, I recently grabbed an HBC Stripes scarf online before all of the HBC Stripes merchandise was gone. I picked it up in person in Penticton where the staff was jovial, albeit somewhat downcast at the same time.

As a kid, a trip to a shopping centre anchored by Eaton’s, Sears or Hudson’s Bay was a big deal – no pun intended – as it usually meant a short road trip, lunch at The Skillet in Zeller’s or The Bay’s food court and maybe a visit to an arcade in the mall.

One of my first jobs was at Woolco, in the electronics department. A teenager selling boom boxes, cameras, VCRs and cassette tapes, until for some reason I was moved to the automotive counter for the evening shifts. A few Woolcos still had the Red Grille, where you could get cheap milk shakes.

We now use apps to pick up our groceries in the parking lot but who else remembers that Woodward’s pioneered this? At the checkout, if you wanted car service, you’d be given a laminated number. The matching number would be attached to the front of your buggy with a big, black binder clip. Once the family car was retrieved, you’d simply drive through and hand over your tag.

If you weren’t on a grocery run, though, you might have been on a quest to discover the latest fashions on display at the top of the elevator. I think of the elevator in the former downtown Penticton Zeller’s more often than I care to admit and the anticipation of what might be on display as you crested the top.

The holiday season began in December when the Sears catalogue arrived and the window displays at ground level came alive at the flagship department stores in the nearest city. On Boxing Day in my family had all of the women piling into the biggest vehicle available to go stock up on wrapping paper and bows.

I learned to drive in a department store parking lot. I remember how cool it was to go visit my mom at work at a Calgary department store counter. Conversely, how my dad embarrassed my brother by pretending to worship a display of department store mannequins in Vancouver.

It wasn’t simply shopping at those stores. It was a social outing. And while I fully admit that my own consumer habits have changed, I can take some of the blame for the death of department stores while still missing them.

My silverware is from Sears. My Royal Albert China set was collected piece by piece from wherever it happened to be sale. My vintage kitchen hutch is from Eaton’s.

Now is a very good time to take out these special occasion dishes and put them to good use.

This article is written by or on behalf of an outsourced columnist and does not necessarily reflect the views of Castanet.