So, Farewell, Shopping Mall—You Are Doomed

By JOHN HARLOW | Editor-in-Chief

When Rick Caruso was wooing local support to build the Palisades Village at public meetings, he was emollient, warm, curious and unruffled by the occasional flare of churlish manners from diehard opponents who instead wanted … well, that was never that clear.

Yet there was one jibe that could always guarantee a tightening of the smile, a withdrawal of the hand—go on, dare you, even today, ask Caruso about the “Palisades mall.”

For Caruso knows that whatever village vision the giant is pursuing, whether it is dominated by Italian fashion retailers such as Armani, Prada or Moschino, or a countless array of Italian restaurants to match, it will not be a “mall” as your mamma knew it.

That beast, born as a cluster of shops known as Trajan’s Market in Ancient Rome, is dead and just awaiting burial.

The first American mall was built in the 1950s and the last probably opened three years ago in Sarasota, Florida.

Taubman Centers designed a smartly laid-out 862,000 square foot behemoth and, with a dead literal tone, named it The Mall at University Town Center. It’s the second biggest mall in America and could swallow the 116,000 square feet of the Palisades Village as easily as the whale swallowed Jonah.

Yet like size, volume can so easily disintegrate into unwarranted overhead, bloat.

Many of its brethren are already being repurposed into a hotel, a parking lot, a community college, a hospital or, in Nashville, an ice rink.

According to analysts at Credit Suisse, fewer than half of North America’s 1,200 malls are expected to be in operation in 2022.

And for once it’s not just the internet’s fault: It’s a gross oversupply of retail space often located in the wrong places. And it’s fashion.

As Caruso said at the Milken conference in May: “The indoor mall is an anachronism whose time has come and gone. Most malls, other than a few really well-situated ones, are going to die. There will be great opportunities for repurposing the real estate, no doubt.”
So why would Caruso even bother with an agora of retail, or shopping centers as everyone else in the world calls them?

(And, yes, they are still growing in popularity in China and Russia—maybe they are a necessary stage that civilizations must painfully evolve through, like beards.)

Some smarter operators, like the gigantic Mall of America, are moving away from mere shopping and into “experiences.”

These include live pop shows, poetry days, fashion catwalks and one-off events geared toward conference visitors.

Palisades Village does not have the space for that, there are no ancillary hotels planned, but the choice of tenants so far revealed a similar, energetic vibe.

Vintage Grocers, the key tenant by space, already hosts blues and jazz concerts outside its Malibu store. And keeps customers satisfied with “special events” such as product launches that are more than just selling opportunities. People at Zuma Beach know how to have fun.

Sweet Laurel Bakery will be offering cooking classes, like Sur La Table in Santa Monica, but with a sweeter twist.

Bob Benton is not going to be just selling sneakers in his new shop—you can bet your bottom dollar some serious baseball events will be plotted in that space.

If he puts in a coffee maker—and we are talking good coffee here—it might become the new Mort’s: a hub of community and conversation.

Fashion stores can hold outdoor styling events, restaurants can surprise us with cookery contests on the green, from tacos to mad foreign concoctions; there can be more art and music competitions.

Cinépolis has the smaller screens, ideal for niche audiences wanting to get away from their TV and come together to watch Vegas boxing fixtures or music from Coachella and the New York Met.

With the number of celebrities in town, maybe a red carpet premiere or two is not too much to ask. (I am looking to you, Tom and JJ.)

These events may not be welcomed by those who fear the Palisades is about to be invaded by unwashed (or over-perfumed) outsiders. But it will keep younger families in town.

And at least the diners, clowns and buskers will drown out the sound of the Ruthless Ryderz.

There are now dozens, if not hundreds, of dead malls around America. It is a retail crisis.

Over the next few months and years, Caruso must prove he is so, so much more than a latter-day Trajan.