Results tagged “shopping”

When we heard that the Eaton Centre had launched their own iPhone app in time for the start of the holiday shopping season [iTunes link], it seemed like a good, ol'-fashioned trashing would be in order. Why, we wondered, would you need an Eaton Centre app on your handheld if you were already in the mall? And if you weren't in the mall, how much use could it be?

If something looks a little amiss about the model in the advertisement above—if her head looks a bit too big for her body, her torso a bit too compact to be natural, her arms, dear God her arms, doing things arms don't do—all can be explained: Bikini Bay on Queen Street West apparently offers its models, like its swimsuits, in "mix & match."

Ah, IKEA. Bastion of the comfortably quirky; originator of accessible (read: cheap) design; first stop for first apartment decorators everywhere.

We interrupt our series on Toronto's future-minded fashion hopefuls to talk, instead, a little shop—and the future of shopping at little shops with big ideas.

Who is moving into the main space in the development at Queen Street West and Portland, abandoned two months by Home Depot? Torontoist got a tip yesterday afternoon that a new primary retail tenant has been locked down, but according to RioCan, the property's keepers, that's just not the case.

Christopher Sheedy, owner of the used bookstore Re: Reading, opening tomorrow on the Danforth, describes the excitement exhibited by many locals as he's been bringing his spacious shop together during the last six weeks. "The other night I was standing outside taking a break, a car pulled up and two little girls got out of the back seat, probably ages five and seven, turned to their mother and said, 'Look, Mom, the store's almost done!'"

From time to time, the landmark store on the southwest corner of Bloor and Bathurst will turn on its famous storefront sign and wash the street in the effulgence of its twenty-three thousand bulbs. It’s a captivating sight.

       

Our favourite pop-up mall, aka the One of a Kind Show, is back in action this week, offering seasonal goods to go with the seasonal change. Despite the recessionary pall, organizers' spirits were high, and though preliminary attendance figures were not available they were optimistic about the show's prospects. Craft sales (both the raw materials and the finished products) tend to swell in tough economic times, so the odds seem happily in OOAK's favour.

       

Fifty years after making her debut, Barbie celebrated her semicentennial birthday with a worldwide array of products, fashion shows, and parties. In Toronto, the brand partnered with The Bay to create one of two Barbie Signature Shops in North America. Large, pink billboards near The Bay added hype to the March 16 unveiling of the “traffic-stopping” store windows and retail destination, but the resulting display leaves much to be desired. Perhaps the stylists were confusing a minimalist intent with its barren outcome, or maybe Toronto Barbie is the newest victim of the economic crisis. Either way, the low-budget effort is evident and consistent with a brand that has seen its global sales drop 21% in the last quarter. Comparing this to Shanghai’s six-storey, pink and fuchsia flagship wonderland, you start questioning how all of the girly imagination and fantasy evaporated from this city.

These (recessionary) days, with “shop” and “excuse to” so rarely separable in a breath, what’s as perfect as the pop-up? Nothing. Sale signs, in their bright, pleading ubiquity, have lost their ubiquity. This winter’s long, and garages haven’t turned out their doors yet; neither have the farmers’ or Kensington street markets.

These days, the Arcade Building at Yonge and Temperance may be known for the neon light installation on its facade or recently-erected signs offering up "big retail for lease" in its emptied-out shopping concourse. The current structure replaced a similarly-named building that one might be tempted to call the city's first indoor shopping centre, which housed a variety of offices and retailers under its glass roof for seventy years.

When I was young and stupid, I took a job in the small animal department of PJ's Pet Store at Yorkdale Shopping Centre. I was really excited about earning extra pocket change and, even more than that, playing with cuddly animals all day long. Now, as someone older and wiser, I recall with disgust all the reasons I should have run screaming from that job. Like that, during my interview, I was told their motto was "The customer comes first" (translation: the animals come second). Like that, during the hot summer months, the guinea pigs and ferrets languished in poorly ventilated cages. Like that, during Easter, I was encouraged to push bunny sales, as though they were a type of candy or greeting card and not living things.

In the hustle and skelter of Toronto's (unofficial) Design Week—comprised of a massive IDS 09 and its younger alt-bro of a show, Come Up to My Room at the Gladstone, plus MADE's Radiant Dark and a smattering of smaller exhibits and excuses to party—playing favourites is work. How to choose from the million-and-one objects and projections of desire proffered by our city's proliferation of designing minds? It's trickier still when you're dazzled and confused by Swarovski installations or Castor in-jokes, to get to the point of purchase. It's one thing to admire, another to sanely advise someone else to buy.

Most holidays are commercial, but Valentine's Day, shamelessly so. It's not statutory. It's not political. It's not religious, unless love is your religion, in which case you probably live in a commune in middle Saskatchewan, and you refuse to go on the internet because it makes you nervous, and oh, my god, how are you reading this? Ahem. Where were we? Right. Valentine's. It's not even really a holiday. All the more reason to celebrate, we say: if ever the economic clime called for a Buy Sweet Nothings Day, it's now. ("Stimulus package" has an erotic frisson to it, no?)

When we think of “fashion” and “reality”—well, of late, we’d rather not. It’s one thing on television, but on the shopping streets, the reality is something grimmer.

David Mirvish Books, one of Toronto's most venerable bookshops since its opening in 1974, will close for business effective February 28, according to the Post. While the events that led up to the decision to shut down are still unclear, what is certain is that DM Books will be sorely missed. Focusing on books on art, the store offers an unparalleled choice of books in its areas of specialization, and has no ready replacement among the city's other independent bookstores. In addition to its extensive book selection, DM Books will be remembered for the iconic fifty foot Frank Stella painting in its double-height main room, its numerous temporary art exhibits, and the frequent book signings and launches it hosted.

People work hard for their money, but they don't make their money work hard for them. It's time to fix that. Economist whips your income into shape with smart, practical advice.

This holiday season, Wal-Mart has graciously kept its Toronto stores open around the clock. To experience the holiday spirit during the stores' extended hours, Torontoist hitched a ride on the Blue Line this week at 3 a.m. to the Wal-Mart at Dufferin Mall.

In this time of economic turmoil, isn't it reassuring that all you need to do to tell the world that your investments are secure and your confidence is strong is to show off a pair of pearl earrings? Never mind the corporate restructuring plan that you've worked on for the past two weeks to the detriment of your sleeping habits and stress levels—the world must know that you are alive and kicking!

You'd be forgiven for seeing nothing but charcoal skies on the holiday shopping horizon, but you also wouldn't be looking quite industriously enough. But, don't fear; that's why we're here! The past week has brought joy to our spendthrift hearts, with creative retail outlets, more like niche markets than stores, popping up all over the place. Looking to spend like it's 2007? Scope out the trio of cool new addresses atop our shopping list.

We've all been there―after weeks of awaiting the holiday gift exchange, days of patiently repressing the urge to peek inside others' shopping bags, tiptoeing around on the morning of to shake and guess the contents of each gift, and, finally, ferociously ripping open a carefully wrapped package to uncover a pair of atrociously knit gloves, flower-scented soap, or of course, the inevitable socks and underwear combo. Even imitating reactions from Best Buy commercials can't save you now. While it's disappointing, it's important to understand that it is the thought that counts. But there's nothing wrong with encouraging higher thinking, especially when it gets you something you might actually want. Why would someone want to waste their gift-giving opportunity, a chance to sign their name in your good books? Think of it this way―you're helping them help you.

Pity the poor shopper just trying to muddle through a holiday checklist. As economic and environmental issues continue to dominate the news, shopping is becoming an increasingly fraught experience—how and where we spend our money is now a subject of moral analysis. In the last few days we’ve been buying artisanal, buying a lot, and buying nothing at all. This week’s message: buy local. Cities across North America are celebrating Buy Local Week from December 1–7. Toronto’s participation is co-sponsored by TABIA, the association of business improvement areas, and Green Enterprise Toronto. The goal is to encourage Torontonians to purchase items that are produced locally, and to make these purchases at local independent retailers. The idea is that local businesses employ and spend locally in turn, thus creating a positive feedback loop that strengthens Toronto’s economy.

Photo of Mayor David Miller by Sarah Marantz/Daily Dose.

Every Saturday morning Historicist looks back at the events, places, and characters—good and bad—that have shaped Toronto into the city we know today.

Today is Black Friday, the day most Americans take off work to begin their annual holiday shopping sprees and one of the busiest on the retail calendar. In a noteworthy bit of culture-jamming counter-programming, it has also recently been repackaged as Buy Nothing Day, an Adbusters-inspired occasion to refrain from shopping at all. Torontoist is not particularly impressed: most people will simply buy tomorrow what they forego buying today, and the net effect will be zilch. As we learned in an interview with The Rebel Sell author Andrew Potter, Buy Nothing Day doesn't really address the root of the problem with excess consumption, namely that we are all producers as well as consumers and thus have a hand in creating things that other people buy. If we want to make a real dent in the problem we all need to be willing to not just buy less but also produce, sell, and earn less, too.

Today’s opening of the One of a Kind Show and Sale marks the unofficial kick-off of the holiday shopping season. We are officially in binge territory here: the exhibition hall takes ten minutes to walk from end to end and is stuffed to the rafters with every imaginable kind of artisan. It’s the ultimate in one-stop shopping for the indie set. As you’d expect, a wander through the stalls yields a mix of the fantastic and the just plain weird. The show is juried, which keeps the overall quality of the work pleasingly high, and we found lots of eminently covet-worthy things.

Cumberland Terrace gets no love. While the 1970s time capsule of shopping mall design still sees excited holiday shoppers, most are passing through on their way to other nearby destinations to drop their dollars or to access the subway. Commentators on architectural web boards have dreamed of knocking it down. Even the centre's current owners have admitted that the site sticks out as an eyesore amid the current wave of redevelopment in Yorkville.

The Santa Claus Parade is over and done with for another year, but jolly old St. Nicholas and his clones have still hardly had time to get comfortable on their thrones in the shopping malls. All the same, there’s already no room at the inn—or the parking lots, anyway. As seen from a helicopter in the early afternoon on Monday (here's a larger shot), Yorkdale Mall doesn’t have an unoccupied spot, just a gaggle of aisle-crawlers cruising and waiting for someone to leave.

We know a girl, who knew this guy. This guy wore jewellery. Piles of it. There were probably lots of thing not to like about said guy, but the jewellery was what really got to her. The gold necklaces, the skull necklaces, and, oh god, all the matching bracelets. Her friends joked that he wouldn't need to talk dirty on the phone. He just needed to say, "I'm taking... my bracelets off," and that was it. That would do it for her.

With this October falling upon us as heavily as the one of, say, 1929, shopping is the last thing we can do to lighten the mood. We keep hearing about this thing called "recession," and the word reverbrates between our ears whenever we take the tiniest tiptoe toward the counter at a clothing shop. Sure, we don't have property or stocks, and, since we decided to write for a living, never had job prospects to begin with. But even if it doesn't directly affect us, the collective economic mood is such that we feel guilty making even the remotestsuggestion of retail as therapy.