A letter from 18 September 2014

A Trip to the Mall

I am a terrible shopper. I lack the patience for it. In Chinese supermarkets in particular, amid the crowds and noise, I can last about 30 minutes. On many working days, however, I find myself in the Super Brand Mall next to my office, as this building offers several convenient venues for lunch (40 to be precise). It also offers a place for a post-lunch stroll and a spot of people-watching, when it is too hot or wet outside.

It is a strange building. Despite its prime position (on the river facing ) it does not make much of its river views. Its 13 floors and 250,000 square metres now seem rather insignificant, squatting beneath the many skyscrapers that have sprung up around it. The mall is owned by the Group from Thailand, which was able to access this prime site through its early investments in Chinese agriculture (notably chicken-slaughtering). The Thai ownership is reflected in the Buddhist shrine outside the front door and in the CP-owned Lotus supermarket in the basement, which specialises in Thai imports. The basement therefore used to be redolent of durian during the season, but any such odours are now overwhelmed by the busy Food Street established there.

When I first visited the mall in 2003, shortly after its opening, it resembled a morgue. My footsteps echoed on the marble as I marched past acres of shuttered shop-fronts. The Pudong side of the river was still relatively undeveloped, and those developments were of half-empty office blocks, deserted on evenings and at weekends. Media articles alluded to the mall’s need for urgent financial restructuring. Gradually, the Pudong population has caught up with the space, and a new approach in 2006, bringing in some better known brands, allowed a 106% year-on-year increase in rents in 2007. Average attendance on weekdays is now 180,000, with 260,000 on weekends or holidays. Rents this year, with consumption generally rather dull, have still risen by 6% year on year. The following tables show the rents quoted by the mall per floor and per category, as well as those rents actually paid by the anchor tenants:

Rents by floor: Rents by category: Monthly Rent Monthly Rent Monthly Rents Floor (RMB/m2) Floor (RMB/m2) Category (RMB/m2) Commission B1 300-330 5F 380-420 Apparel 580-620 20%-25% 1F 660-690 6F 250-280 Lifestyle 420-450 15%-25% 2F 540-580 7F 180-220 Dining 290-320 8%-15% 3F 680-700 8F 180-200 4F 400-430 9F 160-180

Anchor Store Rents: Brand Rented Area Monthly Rents (RMB/m2) Commission H&M 2,497 180 8% ZARA 1,443 277 9% C&A 1,576 284 13% Uniqlo 2,170 443 19% Muji 747 244 16% Tanggong Seafood Restaurant 2,462 118 0 Wills Fitness Centre 1,704 70 13% Xingmei Cinema 5,497 0 12% Haoledi karaoke 2,161 131 0 South Beauty Restaurant 2,600 0 16%

*Total anchor-store area is 22,857m2, with the non-anchor-store area at 63,119m2 My favourite part of a Chinese mall is generally not to be found on the ground floor or in the premium sites, where the same old international brands tend to dominate. More interesting local brands are in the more distant upper reaches of the mall. The more escalators you take, the more bizarre become the offerings. All of the following brands were photographed on one day in the Super Brand Mall which, for all its failings, is in the centre of one of China’s richest cities. In provincial cities, strange local brand names can occupy whole malls. This is not just a case of your correspondent making fun of weak translations of perfectly reasonable Chinese brand names, where the owner has failed to take the simple precaution of consulting a native speaker (though there is a little of this). Often it is the case of the local companies using exotic names to appear foreign, and therefore more stylish, of higher quality and worthy of a price premium.

Didiboy. This is one of my favourites. In the local slang of Exception de Mixmind. Apparently this brand was set where I come from in the UK, “diddy” means small or inferior. up by -based designer Ma Ke in 1996 (a lot of There was also an old comedian Ken Dodd, whose assistants local fashion brands seem to date from the mid-90s). were “Diddymen”. On consulting the brand website, I find On the company’s interesting website, all of the Chinese the brand “aims to help each successful men understand the characters are also spelt backwards. The reason for this is what’s life and love” (sic). Apparently the brand opened a unclear. The brand’s sales picked up after (Mrs store in 2001 in “marking its entry into China”. From Xi Jinping) was seen wearing one of its trenchcoats. where is not stated.

Marisfrolg. This is another designer-led brand, founded by Zhu Chongyun in 1993. The company has built spectacular headquarters in .

Hobbema Paris. I love the “Paris”; shame they couldn’t have found a more French name, especially as, the website tells me, this is “a haute casual fashion brand from France, is tailored for new generation elite men of the middle class” (sic).

M)phosis. Not sure what these guys are aiming at – metamorphosis? The first-ever Ovid-inspired retailer? Their website reveals that they are Singapore-based and aim for an “air of minimalism”. It doesn’t seem to be working too well in Shanghai (the sign says 50% off everything). The Chinese name for Urlazh (of which there is no sign on Neither Migaino or Mangano are Mango. K.A.K.O. is not Kaka the shop-front) is ( 有兰), which is dull but respectable or Kookai. Prich is Korean and offers “American resort-style and has a meaning of “elegant”. The standard casual wear”. Chaber is from the Hebrew? Personal Point is Romanization of this would be “Youlan”, but they’ve rather trendy with its side-on model shot. decided to throw in “r” and “zh”. The aim is doubtless to appear foreign and sophisticated, though to the Western eye it just gives the name a Central Asian air, as if it originates from Kazakhstan. In contrast the Chinese names of Oudifu ( 欧蒂芙 ) and C�love ( 卡拉佛 – I love the diacritic) are designed to appear as mere transliterations of foreign names, and have no meaning.

La Pargay appears to be aiming at the Topshop space. On its website it claims to be an Italian brand, with a Japanese designer based in Hong Kong (trying a little too hard?).

RBike Café. This wins my prize for bizarre concept. We are used to seeing coffee shops inside bookstores these days. So why not put a café in a bike store? Well, mainly because it smells of rubber and oil, like most bike stores. This picture was taken at peak lunchtime, when no one had chosen to eat their lunch among hanging bicycles.

EHE. Easy Heart Everyday; who would argue with that?

Chris Ruffle, September 2014 www.odfund.com