Monday 11 February 2013

Mary Portas comes to Loughborough Town

Mary Portas came to town last Thursday. She swept through the market surrounded by a flock of well polished local dignitaries and media folk. Ignored me completely. I was ready to voice my opinions to her but did not get a chance to. I did however glimpse her talking to the woman who sells school clothes. I was impressed by her bright flame orange hair from which, as I said to my Facebook chums, a strange power seemed to emanate. What was it? Celebrity seems to create a kind of magnetosphere around those that possess it. Everyone around her orientated themselves to her as though they were  an iron filling caught in the power of a  magnetic pole. I found I wasn't immune. I was craning my head in Her direction. I've got to confess that I wanted to be part of the action.

I had to make do with the secondary excitement of being interviewed by East Midlands Today.Asked about what I thought would improve trade in town centres, I said that cheaper parking was needed. I wanted to go on to say more but was not given the opportunity. 

On Saturday lots of people said to me 'Saw you on telly!' They seemed rather excited about seeing someone they knew on TV. It was as though a tiny sparkle of the magic of 'Celebrity' had settled on my shoulder for the day.  I didn't watch my ten second appearance myself. That would have been too disturbing. Was my hat on straight? Was there a crust of dry soup visible on my moustache? Did I display some kind of speech impediment of which I was previously unaware?

It's good to see some kind of work being done to save our markets and town centres. Some Councils, such as Cambridge, are doing little to support their markets but Loughborough seems to be interested in improving trade. I'm impressed by the two market supervisors on Loughborough Market, Jean and Mister Bird. They are both genuinely  concerned about traders and about the future of the market. It's sad, but such positive attitudes are not common in the field of market management.

Phil


Monday 4 February 2013

Tesco's versus Swaffham Market 1977

As you might expect, Sir Terry Leahy's remarks about supermarket shopping being 'progress', didn't go down too well in this household. 'Progress' is dodgy word. It's always used by politicians and businessmen to  present some kind of change  that will benefit them but not us, as both wonderful and inevitable.

Let's look at the experience of supermarket shopping: you go through the doors into a brightly lit non-place with no individuality and glide about with your trolley in what I call a 'shopping trance'. I suspect if brain scanning techniques could be applied to shoppers as they go round you'd find that areas of the cerebral cortex to do with personality, and rational thinking are subdued or inoperable. I notice that if you meet close friends in the virtual reality of the supermarket, you rarely have a meaningful human contact with them. Usually you exchange tepid 'Hi's',  talk a bit  about the awfulness of the weather or the virus you've just had and then drift off to check the prices on Whiskas or beef/horse/mystery animal burgers. It's not living; it's the afterlife. Has anybody been able to write anything interesting about - you can't really call it 'the experience'- the 'non experience' of the supermarket?

Two of my favourite poems are set on market days: 'Miss Thompson goes Shopping' by Martin Armstrong  [ my favourite as a kid -Google it!]  and Tam O'Shanter by Rabbie Burns. It's hard to imagine a visit to Tesco's prompting such delightful poetry.

Personally I find myself recalling my summer in Norfolk in 1977 when I 'did the gaffs' with my friend Michael Rockerfeller [sic]. We sold gemstone and silver jewellery on a weekly circuit of markets. The 'Crown Jewell'  of this circuit was Swaffham Market on a Saturday. It was like a huge party. People bussed in from outlying villages and hamlets, the pubs were open all day long, a noisy auction would be taking place, local shops would be bustling. If you stopped and listened there was a tremendous  hubbub of conversation, shouting and laughter. You could observe people exchanging greetings and banter, gathering in convivial knots and then moving on. The stalls were very  diverse, and this I think is crucial, you could not predict what you would find next as you walked round. At that time there were all sorts of people from different backgrounds, such as myself and Mike, having a go at running a market stall. There was a sense of optimism and adventure in the air that is hard to imagine now. I think that is an objective fact, I don't think I'm looking back with rose tinted specs. The experience of that Saturday market was rich and juicy  and life enhancing. It made you feel ALIVE.

Now consider this. In your life you have visited a supermarket on thousands of occasions. Can you recall on of those? Do you draw a blank? I know I do! So is supermarket shopping, from a human perspective, the perspective of the quality of personal experience, progress?

By the way markets, the ones that have not been destroyed by 'progress', are still cheaper for most goods than, supermarkets. Every Thursday I spend about a tenner on fruit and veg on Loughborough Market and struggle to carry all the bags I end up with. My fruit and veg bill is probably a third or a quarter of what it would be if I shopped for the same produce in Tesco's.

One of the problems for markets is parking. Often car parks are too far away from stalls, or just too expensive. More on that issue another day.

Phil.