Showing posts with label Economic impact. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Economic impact. Show all posts

Thursday, 20 August 2009

Reg Almond, Bardwells, Sheffield

Reg has sold electronic components at Bardwell’s for 40 years. He works with his wife Jenny [right], who, along with her brother Rod, inherited the business from their father, who set up the business in 1944. Rod's son Chris also works at the shop. Despite saying he hates electronics and customers refusing to believe he doesn’t know how to build or fix something, Reg is an engineer by trade, knows his components and will try his best to satisfy hopeful, or technically adept customers.

A first-time customer looking for a replacement 60 milliamp fuse from his stereo’s tuner, had heard of Bardwell’s reputation for stocking all things electronic. He’d been told by a high street electronics retailer that if anyone's going to have that fuse, it's Bardwell's. Reg tested the fuse, confirmed it was “deceased”, and said anything under a 100 is not made anymore. So rare in fact, the shop's 60mA drawer was empty. They had some 80s, but Reg advised it wouldn’t be safe enough and suggested a 50 would do the job. Because the 50s are rare too, why not buy two? Total price 50p.

Reg says the shop could be busy with one customer after another, but in an hour they might only take a tenner, as some items cost as low as 25p. It’s tough to earn a living from the shop nowadays – they've not had a pay rise in ten years - because people don’t buy electronic components like they used to. Reg offers up two cultural shifts as root causes. Electronics isn't taught in schools like it used to be and cheap Chinese imports are flooding UK shops. They used to get loads of school kids coming in, buying stuff for projects they would build, but now it’s cheaper to buy new rather than fix things.

Bardwell's has survived because they’ve diversified their stock to include TV and Computer accessories. They also sell online (Bardwells are ebay Power Sellers) and they also take orders through their website (www.bardwells.co.uk).

Wednesday, 19 August 2009

Jeff Fearn, J B Tools, Castle Market, Sheffield

Castle Market has played a big part in Jeff’s life. For the last 20 years, he’s run a hardware business from a couple of units on the lower ground floor of Sheffield’s lively indoor market, which has been under threat of relocation for the past decade.

In the late 1980s, Jeff bought the business from Joyce Brammer, the 'JB' of JB Tools. Business was so good for the first few years that Cyril, Joyce’s husband, stayed on in the shop to help out. Jeff also employed Sheila (for 16 years, until her retirement), his son Carl and a part-timer. Jeff says "Back then the market was really buzzing. I was constantly bringing in new stock and out sourcing new merchandise".

Business was not his only success at the market. He fell in love with the owner of the haberdashery stall next door. Now she also runs another wool stall across the way, and a card-making / crafts stall on the other side of Jeff. They married 15 years ago and have a son – adding to the three from Jeff's first marriage. One of these, Tony, has just opened a hardware stall on the floor above. He cuts keys and stocks paint and other stuff his dad doesn’t, and is apparently doing quite well. If Jeff doesn't have something he'll send a customer up to his son and vice versa. In the long run, if Castle Market does relocate to The Moor, they hope to consolidate into one larger shop with Jeff slowly withdrawing from the business as he nears retirement.

The business has slowly declined over 15 years, to the extent that Jeff only employs one part-timer. He cites two main reasons for this. First, it’s the opening of new supermarkets close to the city centre. Each that has opened has taken a percentage of custom away. Before them, customers would come to the market for their fruit, veg, meat, fish, etc., then buy what hardware they needed from him. Secondly, ten years ago, the Council made public their plan to relocate the market to the other side of the city centre. Delays and indecision have led to years of uncertainty for traders, which has accelerated the decline in the market's fortunes. Because the market might not be there in a few years, new businesses are reluctant to sign up for tenancies. Existing tenants whose contracts are up for renewal are deciding not to renew their lease for the same reason. The Co-op supermarket, which attracts a lot shoppers to the locale, recently decided they won’t commit to 10 more years and will close their store, which will have a negative impact on all the other traders. So as local shops/stalls fall empty there’s no one willing to take them on, except the odd, short-term, transient trader. Also, while the market's future hangs in the balance, the Council has not invested as much as it could have in maintenance and repairs. The building is slowly disintegrating and would now need millions spent to bring it up to scratch.

The state of disrepair means it’s unlikely Jeff’s preference for renovation would be a considered option, as the Council’s plans for the move are reportedly a step closer. He isn't sure relocation is a good idea, saying that Castle Market is working class, and that customers mostly arrive by bus from the lower income suburbs on Sheffield’s north-side. The proposed relocation to The Moor, on the south side of the city centre, is closer to the more affluent suburbs, where people are more likely to have a car and shop at supermarkets.

Thursday, 16 July 2009

Hampar Gögdemir, Kurtulus, Istanbul

A shop in the Kurtulus neighbourhood of Istanbul. Fitted-out with elegant display counters, it sells good Turkish brands of unisex underwear and nightwear.

Business isn’t good. The present crisis is affecting sales because vast quantities of clothing were manufactured in Turkey for an export market that no longer exists. These items are being sold off locally at very low retail prices in factory shops, markets and arcades. Mr Gögdemir can’t afford to match these low prices. However, he’s got more chance of survival because he owns the shop so is not paying rent. There were six other shops like his in the neighbourhood, which have all closed down.

Shopping habits are changing. Nowadays customers either go Marks & Spencer for quality or to the arcades and markets for very cheap prices. He told us of a long-term customer who brought her daughter into the shop. Upsettingly, the daughter didn’t want to buy anything, she preferred M&S.

Mr Gögdemir knows many of his customers by sight. He’s known some customers since the shop opened 25 years ago. A few elderly customers still bring him home-cooked food. He used to know the customers better. Few take the time to sit down for a glass of tea and talk about the different generations, like they used to. They come in, buy what they need and disappear.

The community used to be closer knit. A woman might buy a housedress and show her neighbour. Half an hour later the neighbour would turn up to buy one too. Then half an hour later another neighbour would come. It’s not like this anymore.

Mr Gögdemir used to drink tea and play games with other local shopkeepers in the street outside. However, tea from the teahouse has grown increasingly expensive (five glasses a day costs over £60 a month), so now he brews his own. He’s never encouraged other shopkeepers to enter and socialise within the shop, as he wouldn’t want to present a female customer with a row of men in front of the counter.

We spoke to Mr Gögdemir about the way shopkeepers greet customers. In the underwear shop, with its higher class of customer and more intimate nature, he usually addresses customers as ‘madam’ or ‘sir’, to keep a respectful distance. However, “if someone wearing a headscarf comes in or someone who seems lower class and therefore might care more about her womanly virtue or reputation, I will be sensitive to her situation and without thinking, I would greet her as ‘Abla’ (big sister), to try to put her at ease.” By using kinship names like aunt or sister, a shopkeeper makes the customer family. By removing sexuality from their interaction, he protects her virtue.

Sunday, 14 December 2008

Supermarkets, Iaşi

Every week or two, most people in Iaşi will find the latest Supermarket catalogue stuffed in to their post box, whether they want one or not. On a 7-14 day cycle, the big retailers publish these free magazines to advertise their latest prices and promotion, like the 2+1 free offer on the cover of Carrefour’s mid-Nov edition. The frequency of the publication reflects the big retailers strategy to shape consumer behaviour: they are trying to educate people to visit the supermarkets more often, because the frequent user will always buy more monthly.

Several people related how much they enjoy researching prices. It’s a process similar to that employed by the back-office staff at Carrefour, who monitor the sector from a large magazine wall rack filled with competitors catalogues. People look through their catalogues comparing merchandise and prices, then share the information with friends and neighbours, before choosing to buy the cheaper one. Although sometimes, and this is corroborated by TV and newspaper reports, when they get to the cashier to pay they discover that the price is higher than that advertised. 

Since Supermarkets arrived in 2003, the big retailers have used these catalogues, loyalty card schemes, allied to media advertising, to help establish a firm grip on the market that not long ago was dominated by small neighbourhood shops and markets.

If we are to believe some local research (www.strategy-for-iasi.com), more than 67% of consumers get more than 50% of their day-to-day goods from big retailers. Of these, Carrefour has 28% market share, other big retailers (Kaufland, Billa, G’Market, Metro, Selgros) have 38% of the total market, the small neighbourhood shops have 33% and another 3% come from the traditional markets. Since this research was conducted, the 2nd Carrefour in Pacaurari has opened, probably eating a little more into the 36% share controlled by the small shops and markets.