In recent days the 117-year-old Neiman Marcus Downtown store has been caught in a whirlpool, like contentious divorcing parents deciding how to proceed. NM’s newest “spouse,” Saks Global, had drawn the line that it would no longer be responsible for the brand’s flagship due to a breakdown in negotiations with a lessor over a 25′ by 100’ underground lease.
The result was Saks abandoning Dallas’ Central Business District (CBD) and committing instead to a $100M renovation of the three-level NM store at NorthPark Center.
In the meantime, Retail Dive was reporting that Saks had had to announce delayed payments to vendors, and Bloomberg reported that about 5% of Saks’ U.S. corporate workforce was to be laid off.
Hmm, that scenario brought back memories of NM when its vendors were put on a stay-and-wait situation for payment.
Now, according to reports of negotiations with NM landlords supposedly associated with the name “Slaughter,” a deal was struck whereby the “promised land” would be donated to Dallas city fathers/mothers in order to resuscitate the downtown store and get it back to business as usual.
But, like a spurned suitor, Saks said it had already moved on.
Still, the question has to be raised: Did Saks actually want more than a “one-night stand” with the legendary downtown flagship in the first place?
Sadly, the store at Main Street and Commerce had fallen on tough times. Its main clientele seemed to be employees and tourists who wanted to “experience the legend” but too often walked away with a small box of chocolates.
All the signs were that she was hobbling, not galloping, into the future of a city that had risen to world fame, thanks partly to her show-stopping ways: the Christmas Catalogue, the Fortnight, barbecues with world-renowned designers like Chanel and exclusive partnerships with couturiers.
But those days were mere memorable wisps of 21st century retail reality.
Back in the late 1980s, when NM’s latest spouse was General Cinema, Stanley Marcus shared a vision to General Cinema’s Richard “Dick” Smith and his son Robert Smith that the downtown flagship store, with its collection of lessors, would be better served at an envisioned “Crescent #2,” across the street from the original Crescent mixed-use development. He suggested a glorious 21st century complex that not only would be anchored by NM, but also would include new KERA studios.
But like Cassandra, Mr. Stanley’s vision was nixed. The powers-that-be claimed that the NM roots were in the CBD — not across Woodall Rodgers in Uptown.
After that deal failed, NM, like an aging beauty, found herself buffeted here and there by various relationships over the years.
To be brutally honest, NM Downtown has become like an aged Aunt Hattie who is only seen on rare occasions. While many reveled in their memories of celebrating her grander moments and being a part of the glory days, like Miss Havisham’s wedding cake the old gal today is simply a relic of far better times.
Some have wondered how the flagship had fallen, like a grand dame reduced to working-girl status on the corner entertaining all offers.
One person who recently attended a luncheon in the supposedly “sold out” Zodiac Room said that, in reality, the space was sparsely populated and looked more like an AARP lunchroom. The store seemed dusty with decrepit elevators. The person sadly admitted that it seemed to be haunted by better times, when Fortnights flourished with international legends (Princess Grace Kelly and Prince Rainier of Monaco, Lord Louis Mountbatten, Douglas Fairbanks Jr., Sophia Loren, etc.), socialites spent dollars and hours there and Texas luxury was legendary.
It was wistful looking at the Zodiac Room recently and recalling Bobby Short playing at the baby grand for Mr. Stanley’s 90th birthday party, Helen Corbitt ruling the room with a ladle chasing an uninvited rat across the floor, the earliest of the Crystal Charity Ball Fashion Shows taking place and children’s birthday parties highlighted by multi-colored Princess and Flower Pot desserts.
And then there was the massively devastating fire in 1964 in the escalator well that took place six days before Christmas that pretty much wiped out the store’s inventory. Still, Mr. Stanley and his staff rallied with help from the community and vendors to buck up and reopen within weeks.
Perhaps it is time to accept the fact that the memories of NM’s downtown past glory days should be stowed away, and that the future of NM is at NorthPark, where 60 years ago Mr. Stanley closed the Preston Center store and took a chance on a fledgling shopping center across the street from a cemetery on one side and a farm on the other.
And, who knows? Perhaps, like a phoenix rising from the ashes, better times are ahead for the soon-to-be-former NM store, thanks to an industrious entrepreneur — or maybe a future Stanley Marcus.
* Video courtesy of WFAA
Shannon G. says
Love this analysis and hearing the history! Thank you.