This is not a column for the kids. And by “kids” I mean anyone under 35 years old, since they likely won’t get the nostalgia. But this old scribe will miss
on Rideau Street. It was my first and best welcome to Ottawa when I started coming here in the 1990s. That’d be in the previous century. You know, back when department stores were popular.
There’s no shortage of
these days opining that the sudden and complete collapse of the once-ubiquitous and oh-so-Canadian icon marks the end of the department store era, unable as the businesses are to keep up with the zeitgeist. I guess these astute analysts and commentators were asleep during the previous demise of K-mart, Target (Canuckian edition), Eaton’s, Sears and then Nordstrom.
I am not one to stand in the way of progress and it’s clear that this type of department store is no longer viable. Not to put myself up as an expert on
What is Cool Today
or anything, but I’ve always noticed that malls are full of people my age. Which is good for me, but not for the malls. If as a business you fail to attract younger customers, sooner or later you’ll die.
Today, teens and young adults have different habits.
, and not just for the bargains. They genuinely enjoy thumbing their noses at fast fashion and the general consumer culture that has sustained North American teenagers since before I was born, forever ago. In good part because that culture failed to sustain the planet.
When they’re not hunting for unique finds in local area thrift stores, the teens I know shop for second-hand clothes online. No, I didn’t know there were virtual thrift shops either, where you can buy anything including — I kid you not — prom dresses. They look great, too.
But you want to know about The Bay and how it provided a warm welcome to this somewhat lost, very young and not yet fully bilingual Québécoise.
The Bay is a little like McDonald’s in that you find the same products arranged in the same way under the same collections in any store you visit. That’s comforting. I would take the train from Montreal and hop on the old (and sorely missed) 95 bus to downtown for my colleagues to come fetch me there.
The Bay on Rideau as well as the since-deceased Chapters bookstore next door were where I went to wait for my pickup, because I felt welcome there. These were familiar places, with familiar merchandise and familiar smells. Also, Starbucks.
The Bay on Rideau has been there since the early 1970s, after taking over the space from another Canadian retail icon,
. That store had been in operation since the end of the 19th century, which isn’t a bad run at all in the retail business. But like everything, it eventually became irrelevant.
Remembered, though. The enclosed arcade between George and Rideau streets that connects to The Bay is called “Freiman Mall” in honour of the old place. Just goes to show how even tiny bits of historical trivia are great.
To previous-millennium me, this space offered comfort (including clean public bathrooms), sustenance and safety. And even though it had changed in the intervening decades, I’m sorry to see it go.
In addition to being welcoming, that patch of Rideau Street was a great introduction to Ottawa. Like the city, it put its least impressive foot forward, like it was scared to be remembered for anything special. At its best, it was drab and non-descript. But if you took the time to get to know it, it would surprise you by how kind it could be.
Progress is good, even when it means losing institutions we assumed were immortal. I will miss the old Bay, but I look forward to what will take its spot. Onward.
Brigitte Pellerin (they/them) is an Ottawa writer.
