In-store

Before I even unveil this genius idea to you I must note that it has already received more negative response than one could possibly imagine an un-unveiled idea garnering.

So I'm going to try to tread delicately in the hopes that you follow along with me with piqued interest.

First of all the idea is for a store space. One should imagine an empty space in a big city on a well traveled avenue with a big open glass front. The space is probably a startling white that sort of dazzles out into the street. The lighting is of course immaculate and certainly not florescent. So we have to space in our heads and in our hearts. We the owners have procured for ourselves the means of leasing this space for quite some time. That is to say that we aren't in need of turning a profit on day one, we've got interested parties that like our ideas so much that they are giving us a long leash. (Fantasy is great cause you can control the circumstances. Certainly this idea is not of the conventional store ilk.)

The name of said store isn't decided yet. But maybe we throw a banner up on day one that says "becoming" or maybe that is the stores name. We'll have to wait and see.

Leading up to day one we have produced a manifesto. This manifesto looks a lot like the post I'm writing right but of course changes with the context. Cause we've printed this manifesto. It says things like; "what if a store just became?" "What if you came in on day one and there was nothing but this little fold of paper you're clutching in your hand right now? And maybe a friendly face to hand you a glass of wine?" And then it would articulate what I'm about to articulate.

Day one, you've told all of your friends and had them tell all of their friends. You have really got the idea brewing and people are excited. You have used all of the little modern marvels of communication to pass this idea on to all of the idea mongers out there in the world. A solid hype is built.

You open up your doors and you just sit there in the middle of the well lit empty room with a pile of manifestos at your side and probably a folding card table with some wine and snacks, except that you open the doors to an empty store and someone, probably you, brings all of that in.

And then through the night in stream all of the people you told to bring a piece of their art. And you help them put it up. And people mingle about and talk about what is going on right now. And they look at the art and the manifesto and they drink some wine. And you keep telling them, this is the store.

Next day you bring in some furnitures and maybe a bookcase and some books or whatever else you want. And you bring in an old cash register. The art is still on the walls and you are open for business. People wander in off the street and you explain that your store is just starting up. You ask them what they'd like. You say, we don't have that yet, but maybe we will soon.

And you roll with it. For me, I start getting more books in and selling them. I get some coffee shop type things, the devices and the tables and chairs and some free wi-fi internet. And I certainly get my food service licence as soon as I can. And all the time people are told to participate, to think of what they might like or find some way to help create the space. Certainly this is a sort of hangout space, cafe style or art studio style. And it just starts happening. And people know that they have helped make it happen and that even if they haven't helped that they could, that the place could change with them and their interests. And at some point the space certainly is something, but it is always still becoming something else. It wears its age and development on its face. At some point that means that a lot of things are nearly permanent. You make a mean cup of coffee and gain renown for a particular potato dish that people come out to try and gets written up in local reviews. And at that point things aren't really moving too fast or changing too much. But the velocity doesn't matter, it is the idea that is at the root. The manifesto might start getting published in hardback with little 25th anniversary notes at the bottom. And the people who buy it might not get to have much say in how the place looks or what it does, but they will read through the thing and think about how it all got here (of course documented in the anniversary edition with pictures of the becoming process).

And that's the idea. A store that starts out empty and becomes whatever it becomes. And that's what it takes to become a legend.