“If there’s a key,
there must be a door,” said the young Mary Lennox upon discovering a small,
ornate key in her uncle’s castle. Perhaps this quote from the famous children’s
tale The Secret Garden might have
been the branding inspiration for Secret Location, an immense fashion boutique and
restaurant found in the epicentre of Gastown. Above the heavy glass doors at
Number 1, Water Street hangs a modest blue sign in the shape of an
old-fashioned key - the Secret Location logo, presumably expected to to inspire
intrigue and mystery. Little else indicates the store’s existence, save for two
shop windows featuring bow-legged steely mannequins stretched to surreal
Japanimé proportions. Only the adventurous, the Mary Lennox in all of us, will
go so far as to step over the threshold, receiving an eager smile from the lonely
hostess in the adjoining restaurant, her warm expression fading as we detour left
into the neighbouring store.
Entering
the gargantuan white room of this high-end boutique, we see nothing so modest
about what lives inside. The sense of space alone is overwhelming – we have
entered through a portal into another world, a world quite different from what
we know of Gastown’s dark, brick-lain historic character. Picture white and a lot of it, held up by
behemoth concrete pillars, brightened further by rows of dazzling overhead
track lighting and clean, birch wood floors. This is not an earthy bar or a local
indie shop – this is, as described, a palatte of affluent Italy and beyond,
highlighted with glass and sparkle – a museum for merchandise to be marveled at
from behind an imaginary velvet rope.
If
we can set our lower income timidities aside, there is endless joy to be found
in the Secret Location retail mix. The content is the wet dream of the niche,
non-commercial shopper. Unlike the comparable Holt Renfrew, where fine wares
often cater to simpler and more classic tastes, the brands here are directed towards
a younger, edgier market – a mythological class of wealthy fashionistas with
money to burn on beautifully crafted (and accordingly priced) treasures of the
avant garde.
The
front of the room has a series of low white tables, petting zoos for furry-toed
Liam Fahy oxfords, neon handbags from Paula Cademartori and printed silk
scarves from Athena Procopiou. Otherworldly geometric heels from the likes of
Heavy Machine and Gio Diev make patrons go “Gaga” for the unexpected. Behind
these stands a white wall of cupboards, the south half cut out into the shape
of a liquid puddle displaying shelves of Kirsten iPad cases, Charbonnel et Walker Violet truffles and other more attainable gifts. A long chef’s table of
rare magazines, trend forecasts and picture books are a clever addition,
allowing the everyday blue collar gal to bring a bit of the Secret Location
spirit home with them.
The
peripheral walls are where the meaty stuff resides – cutting-edge designer labels
are suspended from clothing racks of white shelving and frosted glass. One
sample per piece hangs securely from crystal clear hangers. Experimental gowns
from Katie Ermilio, cut-out leather jackets from Francis Leon and provocative
lingerie from Bordelle are just a fraction of the labels carried. The middle of
the rear space offers display cases of shimmering rose gold jewelry from Mawi London, March Lab pocket watches, Tweety gadgets and specialty analogue cameras. And
let us not forget the ceramic bow ties from Cor Sine Labe Doli, worn by
all the waiters in the empty restaurant next door. All of these items are
marked once again by small labels featuring that same mysterious key, the
prices cleverly hidden of course. The ideal customer is far less concerned with
cost and conversely sold on sheer quality and design. A few added touches: In
the back a large grid of video imagery broadcasts fashion shows and promotional
film shorts from lines carried in store. Furthermore, the change room features
a computerized “mirror,” a digital wall plaque allowing customers to try on a
garment, take a photo of themselves and instantly upload that image to their
Twitter account. This kind of thing, for Vancouver at least, is a revolutionarily
progressive concept in retail marketing technology.
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| Cor Sin Labe Doli Ceramic Bow Tie |
Operations
Manager Gina Avignoni explains that although the store has no set floor plan
per se, the goal is to use the space in a way that best showcases the brands
and products. The store has a diverse range and is designed to evolve. Needless
to say, for such a vast space, a whopping 7000 square feet, the eye is hardly
lacking in stimulus. Secret Location has managed to create a retail universe
that allows customers to move fluidly from one product grouping to the next,
yet never do the empty spots seem vacant or without purpose. If it is not merchandise
you’re looking at, it is a design detail of the room itself – quaint and ornate
wall moldings, a plush, jewel-toned chaise for non-shoppers to rest their limbs,
or a giant panelled box in the centre of the room suggesting further “secret access”
storage deep inside. Even certain junctions of the walls have white, prism-like
polygons protruding where normal corners once were. Suffice it to say, this is
all part of the master plan – every inch of the store lives and breathes the
very mood of the contents within it – artistic, peculiar and inspiring.
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| Fleet Ilya Harness SS 2013 |
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| Draw In Light, AW 2012 |
As
far as profitability per square foot, Avignoni is not at liberty to discuss such
details. Financial particulars, especially when it comes to profit, are as
secret as the name. All this is understandable, but it brings under
scrutiny just how successful Secret Location actually is when it comes to
making sales. Who are its customers? Even the most successful of Gastown yupsters
might love to own a $300 harnessed club clutch from Larissa Hadijo or a pair of
Linda Farrow sunglasses, but more adventurous investment pieces, actual clothes, might not translate amid the
uber-casual, yoga pant culture of Van City. So who is the target market?
Daughters of the Real Housewives? The Real Housewives themselves? And even
then, are these rare society ladies enough to keep such an ambitious and costly
venture afloat? The pleasant sales staff claims that the store is already
developing a keen and loyal following. But skepticism remains, especially that
from the local business community. The associate restaurant has received an
endless list of unfavourable reviews. The operation is situated in ultimate prime
real estate, the heart of the gastronomic sphere, but the restaurant sorely
lacks what all the others have – heart.
A white, minimalist interior might still work for a modern clothing store, but
for a restaurant with an illuminated iceberg bar and a $20 bowl of otherwise
forgettable mussels, all those Palm Beachy bells and whistles come across as
pretentious, old hat and non-conducive to the present culinary zeitgeist of
cool places to get your food and drink. The consumer is left to do a bit of brain work. We must evaluate the two projects individually, separating the poor reputation of the restaurant from the high calibre of the shop.
Shortly
after Mary Lennox found that old little key, she was able to unlock a door to
the Secret Garden, long time withered and neglected. She nurtured the garden
back to lushness and bloom and in doing so, brought all the fragmented members
of her family back together. If we are to think of the Secret Location boutique
as a similar kind of story, its wealth of fashionable gems is, to some, as
sacred as Eden. It would be a shame to see such an impressive project fail, as
so many forward-thinking Vancouver endeavours seem to do. But as usual, timing
and what the local market is ready for must always be considered. The question
remains how ready Vancouver is for
something as grand and radical as Secret Location. We can only hope that the
future goals of the store are as well thought out as their passion for brands and strong facility for
visual merchandising and display.
