Uptown, Downtown

When he was mayor of New York, Ed Koch was famous for his jaunty, challenging, “How'm I doing?”

Appropriate, then, that the National Retail Federation holds its annual convention every January in Koch's city. It's a time, right after the holidays, when retail annually asks itself, “How'm I doing?”

It's been a bumpy road: an economic slowdown in early 2001; the trauma and uncertainty following the autumn terrorist attacks; and an unsettling Christmas, from the national psyche to the national weather.

But gurus at the Javits Center offered a soothing message. They were heartened by a post-holiday sales uptick and by the length and depth of past recessions. If history is any barometer, one speaker noted, this recession should be over in a month.

In the meantime, attendees were encouraged to remain steady – to create stores that are experiential, simple, personal. I found it noteworthy how much of the talk at NRF was about the stores themselves: getting customers back, through drama, efficiency, the shopper “experience.”

Walk through the vast trade show hall and you'd think retail these days was mostly about supply chain management, IT systems and distribution controls. And it's true that those subjects resonated when growth was king and retailers had to concentrate on managing that expansion. When sales shrink, however, retailers have to become merchants again: getting shoppers into stores, keeping them in the stores, converting shoppers into buyers.

But as the gurus uptown were lecturing retailers to run tight and clean, lean and mean, retailers were also flocking downtown to visit the new Prada store in SoHo. Few new stores have garnered as much attention as this Rem Koolhaas shrine to elegance. It has been cited for its architectural wonderment, and for its symbolic homage to Manhattan's open wound downtown.

The store itself is amazing – a sweeping wooden skateboard ramp of a space that swoops down a broad vastness and then back up on the other side. Mesh cages intermittently break the long and tall expanse of mostly empty space. A sperical glass elevator, with merchandise displayed inside, hums up and down between levels. Plasma screens feature preening Prada fashion models. An enormous graphic mural runs the entire length of wall on one side of the main floor. Corridors tease into dead ends. Dressing rooms have innovative cameras providing almost voyeuristic mirror images. And nearly every surface material is a surprise, from sleek metal walls to clear plastic seat cushions.

It seems to have its celebrity following. (On the day I was there, documentary movie-maker Ken Burns was playing bagman for a female companion. And Geoffrey Rush was picking through the racks.) But with 150 stores around the world, Prada may have to rein itself in and seek a broader market. As one retail analyst surmised, “Bergdorf's shoppers will always shop in Bergdorf's, no matter what. But in this economy, are there enough Prada shoppers remaining to justify this expense [estimated at over $1500 per square foot]?” Prada has been grappling with a well-publicized $1.6 billion debt load and a line of $375 shoes and $1200 shifts that may be in danger of losing its cachet. (Cachet gets so easily lost.)

It certainly is a store that has grabbed everyone's imagination. But as an NRF speaker might tell you, “Don't try this at home.”