What’s the secret to a successful mall? It’s simple – change or die.

 

When I first moved to Milwaukee, my husband and I lived just off of Brown Deer Road near Northridge Mall. Back then, 25 years ago, Northridge was THE mall. Everything in and around Northridge was thriving. We’d spend hours wandering the aisles of Northridge, window-shopping and just hanging out.

 

Because my first job was near Wauwatosa, we bought our first house in Milwaukee on the edge of Tosa. It was a tiny little starter home and on sunny days we’d take walks and gaze across Center Street and dream of the day we’d be able to afford a Tosa home. Eventually, our dream came true and we became true Tosans. And our new mall became Mayfair.

 

Back in the early ‘80s, Mayfair seemed like the quirkiest mall to me. There was an ice rink in the middle of it! How cool/weird is that?! It didn’t take long before I grew attached to Mayfair. We’d go to movies in the odd little theater in the East parking lot. We’d grab lunch at the cute little café in Marshall Field & Company.

 

I vividly remember a day in early 1986, standing and watching ice skaters while upstairs in the office building, my doctor was processing my first pregnancy test. That same year, they started making huge changes at Mayfair. They took out the ice rink and started building a second floor. I remember wandering the halls of Mayfair, in an around scaffolding, while I made my way to the Chocolate Factory for lunch. (Prior to the arrival of the food court.)

 

For many, many years, it seemed like Mayfair was on a steady diet of change. New retailers came and went. Our children have fond memories of the opening of The Disney Store on the first floor of Mayfair. They’d spend HOURS gazing at and sometimes climbing around the tower of stuffed animals in the back of the store. (That is when they weren’t begging for a new toy.) When we could lure the kids out of The Disney Store, my husband and I would drag them over to Scribner’s, where we’d buy books that came with ever-useful blue bookmarks.

 

To us, it almost seemed like Mayfair grew as our kids grew. When they were at just the right age to become regular movie-goers, the 18-screen theater opened. We were there on that opening weekend when they offered free movies (albeit older films) to show off the new screens. Back then, there was a dinner theater in the General Cinema Theater (now AMC) as well as birthday parties for kids.

 

Once the theater opened up, the mall began to group stores in the upper level based on demographics. On one end, they put Build-A-Bear and Gap Kids, on the other end, Spencer Gifts and American Eagle.

 

Soon there was a huge growth spurt that included Crate & Barrel, PF Changs, Maggiano’s and Cheesecake Factory. For several years, we came to expect something new every season.

 

Mayfair became THE mall in the Milwaukee area, while malls like Northridge, Southridge and Bayshore either folded or barely survived. Unfortunately, with success come challenges and Mayfair had its share of incidents and crime issues. But again, the mall responded in 2007 by instituting the Parental Guidance policy which seems to have been very successful.

 

With the exception of McCormick & Schmick’s restaurant and a few random retailers, Mayfair has been pretty quiet in the past year or so. Meanwhile, Bayshore and Brookfield Square have spent major dollars to attract shoppers to other sides of town.

 

Only time will tell if Mayfair and other malls will withstand the shaky economic times that have pinched everyone’s wallets. For 50 years, Mayfair has evolved and flourished. Now it’s up to us to decide if Wauwatosa’s largest taxpayer will be around for another 50 years. As Wauwatosa residents, we have a vested interest in Mayfair Mall.

 

So what do you think? Do you have any “Mayfair Memories” that you’d like to share? Do you like Mayfair or avoid it like the plague? What changes, if any, would you like to see at Mayfair?

Dear Drew’s:

Say it ain’t so! I heard the news today – oh boy. I can’t tell you how sad I am to hear that you’ll be closing your doors in January. And it’s not just me. When I drove carpool this morning, my daughter and her friend mourned the future loss of one of their favorite local retailers. Yes, that’s right – even teens adore you. We parents can’t get that kind of love.

 

Was it because I haven’t been in recently? I meant to, but we haven’t needed poster board or yarn or buttons or strange kitchen gadgets in the last couple of months. But if I did, I would have been there in a flash, happily wandering your aisles.

 

The thing is, what I loved about you is that you were always there – when I needed you and sometimes when I didn’t. Your kitchiness and eclectic mix of homespun and hard-to-find were exactly what we needed in a town where big box retailers are slowly taking over.

 

It must not have been fun for you these past few months with village streets and various construction projects taking their toll on your bottom line. We appreciate your steadfastness through it all.

 

I’m guessing that you didn’t come to this decision easily, but if there’s still room to reconsider, please do. As someone said so aptly in the Tosa Town Square, you are part of the fabric of Wauwatosa. With you gone, there’s a big hole in our village and in our hearts.

 

If it’s a done deal, then I guess all there is left to say is thank you. Thanks for being there for parents, kids and all Tosans. We will never forget you.

 

Your customer,

 

Karen

 

For me, the thing that signals spring in Wisconsin isn’t the burst of foliage everywhere. It’s not the crowded garden stores or the sudden abundance of walkers and runners. No, I know that it’s spring because of the roar of the race cars, one of my favorite sounds in the world. I live within earshot of Wisconsin State Fair Park. My home, which is walking distance from our quaint little Village, is apparently listening distance from the Milwaukee Mile. Every spring without fail, racecars practice at the Mile before and after the Indy 500. It’s a sound that brings me back to my childhood.

As I’ve mentioned in the past, I’m not a Wisconsin native. I grew up in Chicago. (Don’t worry, I’ve renounced my Windy City Citizenship and am a proud Cheesehead.) My father was an amateur sports car racer in the Sports Car Club of America. While my friends and their families spent their summers visiting tourist attractions or going on “real” vacations, I spent mine at racetracks throughout the Midwest. It would not be uncommon to find me and my family at State Fair Park or Wilmot or Road America, timing qualifying laps or polishing a bright yellow MG Midget. While other kids tracked box scores for their favorite baseball teams, I learned to replace points and figure out where we needed to finish in order to make the Runoffs at the end of year.

It was a curious upbringing filled with the sounds of engines and the smells of gasoline, two things I still love. After school on Friday, we’d all jump in the family station wagon and tow the racecar to the track for tech inspection. We’d unload and head for the motel, which on a good weekend, would have a pool and a restaurant. One of my favorites was the Ramada on Bluemound Road that was pretty cool because it had an indoor pool – bonus.

I was one of the few 16-year olds that not only knew how to drive a full-size passenger van, but could tow a trailer with racecar (and back it up) and talk on the CB Radio. Sadly, those skills never impressed the boys very much, although my dad’s garage certainly did.

So when I sit outside and enjoy the warming weather, I can’t help but smile when I hear the engines revving and the gears changing. It brings me back to a simpler, albeit unconventional time. And it reminds me that summer is just around the next corner…or hairpin turn.

Dear Santa:
I give up. Christmas is starting much earlier than I think is reasonable, but I can't seem to fight commercialism. I noticed that your house was up in Mayfair by November 1st. I was almost expecting Tom Turkey to rent it out for a couple of weeks, but thankfully that didn't happen.

Anyway, since I can't stop the ebb and flow of holiday merchandising, I may as well just embrace it and jump head first into the season like everyone else. However, I have a few requests this year. Can you find it in your heart to give us Tosa grown-ups some treats under our Christmas tree? Here are a few suggestions:

The gift of patience. Even if we're quasi-Martha Stewarts, at some point during the next 40 days, we're going to shop. Help us take a deep breath and know that everything will take just a little longer and we should leave the attitude in the car.

The gift of kindness. Again with the shoppers - there will be a lot of us out there. We'll be hustling and bustling and our packages will be jostling. Give us the ability to step aside for a mom with kids, hold a door for someone carrying several packages, or let a car merge in front of us as we're battling traffic.

The gift of big things from small places. When we're out shopping, encourage us to find the small Tosa stores that help make our village so great, such as Jilly & George, Anthilia, Juxt Home & Baby or The Underwood Gallery.

The gift of good friends and family. Help us to remember that the special people in our lives are more important than anything that can be bought in a store. And since food, family and friends go together so well, maybe we'll think about visiting the new Enoteca, the tried and true Hector's or sharing a pizza from Balistreri's with those we love.

Oh and be careful when you visit our beautiful old Tosa homes. Some of those fireplaces get a good workout this time of year and that red suit might need an extra dry cleaning.

Thanks Santa!
Love,
Karen

During my years in Wauwatosa, I’ve seen several businesses come and go. Some, like Heinrich’s Bakery, were legendary. Others, like Soprano’s Subs (ironically in Heinrich’s former space), were here and gone, practically before we got to know them. Still, memory is usually short and we tend to move on and find a replacement pretty quickly. The exception to this is Shamrock Video.

If you lived anywhere near 89th and North during the 1990s, you were probably familiar with Shamrock Video. This small store, next to Netzow’s Pianos on the south side of North Avenue, was the place to go to rent VHS videotapes (no DVDs yet). It was a tiny space that became even tinier on Friday and Saturday nights when everyone in the neighborhood would be there. We’d venture over there with our toddlers in tow in search of a movie that could entertain both parents and kids. After making our selection, we’d often head across the street to ***’s to pick up a carry-out dinner to satisfy everyone. (Did you know that ***’s makes kid-pleasing cheeseburgers?!)

A trip to Shamrock was like visiting a town square. Adults would meet up with friends. Parents would compare notes on which movies were worth the price of rental or which titles were more violent than advertised. Kids would make choices from the limited selection of videogames, often getting tips from other kids that had already tested them. The Shamrock staff was always willing to give you an opinion on a movie or recommend a different title if you weren’t sure what you wanted. And no video rental would be complete without a selection of cheap candy that was sold at the counter. It was small-town America at its very best. Sure, it was tough to find a new movie, especially on a weekend, but it was a quaint little corner of our world that was good enough for us.

Today, our video rental choices are Hollywood Video on 68th and State and Blockbuster on 61st and North. If there’s another choice, I haven’t heard about it. Sure, these two national chains offer more titles than the average family could rent in a year, but it’s just not the same. I rarely see anyone I know in these stores and, frankly, the employees look like they wish they were elsewhere. Strange as it sounds, I miss the limited selection and the hominess of Shamrock Video. Sometimes smaller is just better.