NEW YORK, New York, December 1, 2019 - Few New Yorkers could have been more eager than me for the opening of Nordstrom’s new flagship women’s store near Columbus Circle. With seven floors of brand-name fashions, the 320,000 square-foot emporium is reportedly the biggest stand-alone retail space opened in Manhattan in nearly 70 years, at a cost of $500 million.
But my excitement had little to do with the merchandise or glitz – it may be ages before I drop a dime on any of the sweaters, shoes, handbags, jackets and dresses on display. Rather, my office at 1776 Broadway is surrounded on all sides by the designer superstore, and therein lies a New York tale of patience tested.
For the past seven years, my neighbors and I endured endless disruptions from working in the midst of a massive construction site. It started with Obama-era dynamite blasts and bulldozers excavating the demolished 225 West 57th Street next door – we felt the seismic thumps for months. That was followed by pounding fabrication noise in all seasons, along with hazardous debris and dust that floated through our 9th floor windows. I was nearly decapitated by a metal beam casually hauled through the lobby by a worker on his way into the store’s side entrance. There was also the general grubbiness that overtook our building as the project dragged on, with trampled mud and scaffolding in all directions, plus stop signs held up in our faces as trucks and carts drove through. Even our plumbing and air conditioning were glitched. Did I mention one of our elevators was hijacked for the up-and-down sorties of the hard hats?
So, I’m ecstatic simply that the store’s protracted build-out is complete – never mind that Chanel, Coach, Armani, Revolution, Tom Ford, Burberry and Tory Burch are but a few steps away. Nordstrom’s irregular sales space now occupies the first four floors of our 1927 building with the Liberty Bell crest and Pledge of Allegiance plaque; lest I forget how to find my way, the store offers four separate entrances to the left, right and around the corner from us, including one leading to Nordstrom’s men’s shop across the street. There are cheerful black-suited doormen (and women) in force, ready to beam open the palatial doors to beauty heaven.
Of course, it’s not entirely over. Extell Development Group is still in process of finishing the 1,500-foot-high Central Park Tower rising above Nordstrom’s wavy exterior; it features 179 stratospheric-priced condos climbing 131 stories high. The tower fronting West 57th Street topped out in September – it’s now the second-tallest skyscraper in the Western Hemisphere. But the heavy equipment and crews will remain for another 18 months to make the “hypertall” structure inhabitable - if you’re interested, Residence 112 is available for an asking price of $63 million.
Part of me almost hoped no one would show up to shop – revenge for the inconvenience and extra carpet-cleanings, and for agreeing to renew my lease at higher rent last year on the promise that the development was nearly done. But how could you wish ill on a merchant willing to make such a huge bet on a New York showcase, at a time when traditional department stores have become archaic and shoppers increasingly looking and buying online, mostly for discount brands? It’s ironic that Nordstrom has dropped such a large anchor in the city just as Barneys’ ship has mostly sunk and is in process of liquidating.
As soon as I set foot into the actual store, however, any lingering huffiness evaporated. I was overtaken by the wonder of it all, as if our new neighbor were a World’s Fair pavilion rather than a vertical mall.
Others have already heaped praise on the dramatic interior created by Nordstrom’s design chief Dawn Clark and architect James Carpenter. What has struck me over several visits wandering from floor-to-high-ceilinged-floor is how far fashion retailing has evolved in recent decades. We’ve gone from the austere, hushed approach of Saks and the crammed, overstocked subway-car style of Bloomingdale’s to a new form of haute bazar that Nordstrom represents.
The wide-open floor-plan, the effortless flow from one designer rack to the next, the approachable ear-budded sales staff and the carefully curated wearables and accessories draw as much from an Apple store as any apparel boutique. There are appealing long-distance views from all points (especially the escalators), and everyone is in motion and engaged with the experience of just being in this glittering, sexy, energized place. It’s a live diorama of a shopper’s (or at least a browser’s) paradise and as great a spot for people-watching as the Met, Central Park or Fifth Avenue. In fact, I could imagine the late Bill Cunningham perched in a corner of Nordstrom’s first floor, capturing snaps from what promises to become New York’s best daily fashion show, DJ included.
Nordstrom has spent a ton on advertising – newspaper and magazine spreads, bus posters, billboards, taxis, Twitter and more. One thing they’ve neglected is hyper-local outreach. There are thousands of office workers (i.e., customers!) along 57th and 58th Streets, Broadway, and 7th and 8th Avenues who likely are harboring their own peeves after all the dislocation, even if just being forced to walk a block-long construction tunnel behind a family of five with wheelies. Why not offer us some neighborly discount love? The Art Students League at 215 West 57th Street received a $55 million windfall from selling air rights so that Extell could build its mega-tower, but the scruffy students and models who congregate outside the new store for a smoke might still appreciate a coupon for their first purchase of a designer hoodie – especially given Nordstrom’s sticker-shock price tags.
New Yorkers are accustomed to time-lapsed makeovers altering the city’s skyline and commercial face. That second-hand record shop at the base of a tax-payer tenement is now a taqueria – look again and it’s a Verizon store supporting a sliver high-rise. Amnesia competes with nostalgia in the constantly new and improved New York. Having lived through extensive reconstructive surgery all around me, I need prompting to remember the friendly Pax outlet downstairs where my colleagues and I used to grab soup and sandwiches – it’s now a glam Nike mini shop within Nordstrom. Who’s to say in a few years it won’t be an Amazon Go store?
For now, it’s nice that our corner of Billionaire’s Row is finally being given back to the little people on the ground, with a bit of light and room to walk. Some of the sidewalk sheds in place since Mad Men was on air have come down – Nordstrom will need to address mounds of pigeon droppings revealed alongside its limestone façade. The construction guys have stopped pushing dumpsters past you like shopping carts at D’Agostino’s. And I can step into the street without ducking my head under a pole. We even got a slick new lobby entrance at 1776, with brass doors, elevator security cards and polished Liberty Bell tablet. I’m bracing for when my lease is up again – Nordstrom, you owe me.
Allan Ripp runs a press relations firm in New York.
Note: An abridged version of this article appeared in Real Estate Weekly on November 29, 2019: https://rew-online.com/2019/11/why-i-love-my-own-private-nordstrom/
