About Howard Saunders

The Retail Futurist, otherwise known as Howard Saunders, is a writer and speaker whose job it is to see beyond retail’s currently choppy waters. Howard spent the first twenty five years of his career at some of London’s most renowned retail design agencies, including Fitch & Company, where he created concepts, strategies and identities for dozens of British high street brands. In 2003 he founded trend-hunting agency, Echochamber, inspiring his clients with new and innovative store designs from across the globe. Howard relocated to New York in 2012 where the energetic regeneration of Brooklyn inspired his book, Brooklynization, published in 2017. His newfound role as champion for retail’s future in our town and city centres gave rise to the title The Retail Futurist. Howard has been interviewed on numerous television and radio programs and podcasts for BBC Radio 4, BBC Scotland, the British Retail Consortium, Sky News Australia and TVNZ, New Zealand. His talks are hi-energy, jargon-free journeys that explore the exciting, if not terrifying, retail landscape that lies ahead. When not in retail mode, Howard has recorded, literally, thousands of digital music masterpieces, most of which remain, thankfully, unheard.

WHY I’M BETTER THAN YOU

I may sound arrogant but since everything turned upside down in early 2020 I’ve learnt so much more about who and what I am, so I’ve decided to be more honest with myself, as well as with those around me. 

Everything has changed, there’s no doubt about that, and lockdowns really made us re-evaluate our priorities. For example, I’m lucky that I can work from home, so I was able to enjoy more time with my family and get to know my local area for once. I enjoyed having stuff delivered to be honest. Some days I had so many deliveries it felt like it was Christmas as I’d forgotten what I’d ordered most of the time. (Good job delivery drivers and supermarket staff can’t work from home though, haha!). I do enjoy my work, but I must say, it’s been nice not having to get up at 6am every morning. There’s no way I’ll go back to doing that every day.

So yes, it’s fair to say I’ve changed considerably and have a much better understanding of what life is really about, and how I compare with others.

Education

It’s not like I went to school wearing a top hat or anything but I like to think I had a decent enough education. My Comp was ok I guess, but I did have a great group of friends and they teach you everything you need to know in terms of how to survive normal life, so I’ve always felt pretty well prepared. To be honest, I find the sort of people who’ve had a so-called ‘proper’ education pretty hopeless when it comes to real life, don’t you think?

Social Media

I use it every day yes, but I don’t post my every waking moment on Facebook or Instagram, that’s for sure.  And I certainly wouldn’t say I’m addicted. I only really use it to keep in touch with old friends, from school and that. Some of them, literally, post every blinking meal and every time they step out the front door, and I hardly ever do that! Oh, and my TikTok videos are just for laughs really, although I do get quite a few likes.

Lifestyle

I’m not fanatical about it but I do try different diets on and off, like cutting down on meat or sugar for a bit. I’m pretty good at sticking to the rules, mostly, but when I go out with my friends, like on a Friday night after work, all that good intention goes out the window, I’m afraid. But I work hard, so I think that’s fair enough. I’m definitely not sedentary all day so I’m reasonably fit I reckon, although I do have a weakness for carbs. I do love my pasta. If pressed I’d say I was an ‘everything in moderation’ type. That’s pretty good isn’t it?

The Pandemic

I’m sick of hearing about it to be honest but it was scary, certainly at the beginning. Last year I used to pass the shopping to Dad on the end of a broom handle for god’s sake! But you can’t go on like that forever can you? I wouldn’t say I was terrified but it certainly was worrying. Still is! I do wear a mask when I have to, because like Tesco says ‘every little helps!’ Some of the rules do seem crazy though, like it’s ok to take it off when you’re sitting in a restaurant but not when you go to the loo. I’m sure those in charge know what they’re doing though, don’t they?

It  was shocking to see those pictures though. The hordes of people on the beaches, at the football and those festivals, none of them wearing a mask! Ridiculous at a time like this. I mean, I enjoy a good time along with the best of them, but I guess some people are just born irresponsible.

The Environment

Yes, it’s very worrying. It’s obvious something has to be done, isn’t it? I mean, something’s changing what with all those fires in Greece and California and everywhere. Seems like there’s extreme weather events happening somewhere every day now. And yes, I accept I might have to pay more tax, if it will help. But frankly, if the super rich just paid their fair share, instead of hiding it away in all these offshore banks, that would be probably solve it, wouldn’t it? I mean, they’re flying all over the place in their private planes and stuff and yet, you wait, it’ll be ordinary, hard working people like me who’ll have to foot the bill. Pay your fair share, that’s all I ask.

All in all I think I do my bit, certainly more than most. I recycle everything possible, and wash everything before it goes in the blue bin, which is more than most people. I use those hessian carrier bags as often as I can and try and buy the most sustainable things at the supermarket. Local produce whenever it’s available, but it’s not always easy. 

Too many people out there openly throw their rubbish on the street like they don’t give a damn. Incredible really, but some people actually leave their old mattresses and fridges up by the heath, believe it or not. It’s completely unacceptable, frankly. Disgusting actually. Something should be done about it.

I love nature and always feel properly recharged when I get out into the country. It’s a very special feeling that’s hard to explain so I can’t really believe what humans are doing to this planet, to be honest. That’s what my tattoo is trying to say I suppose: my emotional connection to Mother Nature, if you like. No, I’m definitely not religious though I would consider myself much more spiritual than I used to be. There’s so much we don’t know about, don’t you think?

Hospitality

When we go out, yes if I’m honest, I want to be treated with respect. I mean I work hard for my money and wherever I decide to spend it, whether it’s in a restaurant or a clothes shop, then I want to be treated like it really matters, not like I’m just another customer. Especially when I’ve been before. They should welcome you back properly and be grateful for your business, don’t you reckon?

The Future

I don’t think things will go back to normal for quite a while yet. When they do I’ll definitely be going on holiday…masked up if I have to! All in all I think I’m pretty lucky. I don’t do the lottery very often but if I did win I’d spend the money wisely, not like most of them you read about. I’m not being funny, but I definitely think I have some hidden talents, as yet untapped haha! Time will tell, I suppose. 

I do like the idea of having children someday, but I don’t think it’s fair to bring kids into this messed up world at the moment, so we probably won’t. You don’t need to be stuck in a traffic jam or travel on the tube at rush hour many times before you realise there’s simply too many of us on this planet, for god’s sake. Some people are still having, like, five kids and it’s not a good look is it? You know what I mean?

Finally

Yes, all things considered I think I am probably better than most people. I don’t mean to sound big headed or anything but I’m probably more hard working, a bit more thoughtful, more balanced perhaps than most people I know. Just being honest.

I am everyman and everywoman. I am your neighbour, your work colleague, the shop assistant you just thanked and even that couple standing at the bar over there. I am a brand new blend of caution and entitlement. I am the masked narcissist, your preening, dancing, digitally distanced TikToker. I am the strange lovechild of Homo-Trepidatious and Homo-Narcissus. I am the vast majority of your customers…and your staff. You’ll be getting to know me very well indeed as I intend to stick around for the rest of this decade at least. Catch you later!

Now that we’ve established that I’m better than you, please follow me on Twitter @retailfuturist for daily insights and musings.

  Howard Saunders   Sep 15, 2021   Future, me age, Retail, shopping, smartphone, Uncategorized   Comments Off on WHY I’M BETTER THAN YOU   Read More

DEAR BORIS

We need your help urgently, but the good news is we want you to do absolutely nothing.

I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that retail and hospitality have been utterly devastated since the C-word arrived, but I’ll tell you anyway. Only the richest stores will survive, only restaurants with serious cash in the bank will make it through. Hundreds of thousands of our shops, bars, pubs, clubs and restaurants will never reopen I’m afraid, but by doing absolutely nothing you can save them.

The truth is, the pandemic has hurried along the inevitable. It has reached into the future, grabbed it around its stupid, skinny neck and dragged it kicking and screaming right onto the doorstep of number ten. But don’t worry,  I have the solution.

I don’t have to spell it out but, sod it, I will: The economy is like a giant flashy wristwatch: an incredibly complex but highly sensitive mechanism that’s taken centuries to find its natural rhythm. Some of it runs fast and smooth while other bits clunk along reluctantly, but when it’s working it interconnects every single one of us so that the girl that bakes the bread for the sandwiches that feed the railway workers that get the trains rolling that take commuters to their offices to design and make the stuff they sell in the shops to enable our lovely baker to buy the things she needs to keep her life ticking along nicely. Well, that’s the idea anyway.

But over the last few years, with each new regulation, with each incremental increase in rent and rates, we could only respond by passing on the extra costs to our increasingly bewildered customers. There’s a clue something’s going awry when it costs the best part of five quid for a basic double decaf latte with mocha sprinkles.

On top of all this, national chains with hilariously ambitious spreadsheets often paid above market rents, which in turn hiked the prices for the rest of us. Increased rents meant increased business rates and so click by click the delicate mechanism was ratcheted tighter and tighter until…well, you know what happened.

(By the way, when you next bump into Rishi please thank him for all his help. Getting paid to watch movies for a year was a bit of a novelty at first, but now everyone’s completed Netflix, frankly we’re bored witless.)

Please don’t think this is a plea from a special interest group or a specific corner of the market whining for extra help. No. Our high streets, our shops and restaurants are the lifeblood of everybody’s community. No one will be unaffected by the retail apocalypse when the shockwave hits later this year. Reality bites and this time it will leave a fatal wound, for sure.

Look, I get it. I get that you need to increase taxes. I even get that we don’t really have to balance the books like a household budget because it’s more important to show a decent long term credit record. (Otherwise what sort of a madman would spend £100 billion on HS2??) I also understand it’s all about legacy, but here’s the thing, we’re at a crossroads now Boris. Continue where we left off in March 2020 and you will be remembered as the PM who ushered in the era of the ghost town, the tumbleweed community, the lost generation…you get my drift. You enjoyed the taxes when times were good but, let’s be honest, taxes are brakes on growth. And no sane person could believe our communities need slowing down right now.

That’s why I’m asking you to do nothing: Abolish business rates, simple as that. Stop the clipboard army of surveyors and measurers, calculators, adjusters and valuers. Stop the rate reviews, rate review delays and banish the rate collectors. (The cost of the admin-mechanism must be…well, hundreds of millions alone). Imagine, bringing an end to the endless fighting, disputing, negotiating and renegotiating, all of it solved overnight. By you.

And please don’t consider rates holidays or strategic delays to our punishment. Telling a child you won’t slap it until next year does not make for a well balanced upbringing.

Boris, simply remove your foot from our collective necks, stand back and fold your arms as the whoosh of energy tousles your iconic mop. Oh yes, it will be instant. Watch as our lungs balloon with oxygen, our eyes snap open and the entrepreneur in us awakens, alive with the long forgotten electricity of enthusiasm. No longer will our towns feel locked down by the likes of Costa and WH Smith. Given the chance we shall reclaim them. Our children and our children’s children will once again grow up knowing that their local high street really is theirs, and that one day they may bring their own ideas to market. 

Unlocking our nation of shopkeepers Boris, this should be your legacy. Unleashing the army, not of taxers, naysayers, measurers and restricters, but the gargantuan hidden army of muffin makers, cake bakers and dressmakers, the sandwich toasters, chicken roasters, electronic fixers, baristas and cocktail mixers alongside specialists in house cleaning, dog preening and bao bun steaming. These people, these are the good people that will get the arteries of Britain pumping again, and only you can make it happen. 

Do nothing Boris, that’s what we want. Nothing is more important right now.

These images of closed and shuttered shops and restaurants were taken on the anniversary of our first lockdown, in Kensington, Chelsea and Soho, the UK’s wealthiest postcodes.

Follow me on Twitter @retailfuturist for daily insights and wry musings.

  Howard Saunders   Mar 24, 2021   Uncategorized   Comments Off on DEAR BORIS   Read More

IT’S 2021. MEET HOMO-TREPIDATIOUS

The bounce back was not very bouncy. There were exceptions, of course. Like the queues at McDonald’s in July last year. A nation of fast food addicts certainly needed its fix. They stood in line for a good forty minutes, grinning and giggling like over excited seven year olds. Happy meals indeed.

There’s definitely a new civility in the air. We’re less frustrated about delays, less hurried and certainly more polite when we finally get our hands on our goods. Many welcome this new civility as long overdue, but the truth is it is born entirely from fear. Like badly berated schoolchildren we obey instruction without question, keep our toes tucked tidily behind the yellow line, and jump the instant the man in the fluorescent jacket raises his arm.

And look what’s happened to pubs. Pub culture was the very foundation of British society. It’s where workers and bosses, landowners and farmer’s hands laughed together across the froth of their beer, untethered by status or social hierarchy. Sadly, the bustling, beery, raucous chorus that was our local boozer has been well and truly throttled by hazard tapes, warning signs and perspex screens. Not dead exactly, just lifeless. Orderly lines of locals supping ale at a safe distance is not a pub, and never will be.

Orderly, civilised and respectful it may look, but that’s because we’ve been scared witless (or shitless, if you prefer). We’ve had the fear of God drummed into us and we’ve chanted the weekly mantras, bashed our saucepans and everything. We may pass each other and exchange polite greetings but we’re both thinking ‘He’s probably got it. Christ, she looks poorly’. Oh yes, the script for the Twenties has been written: Homo Trepidatious is born.

Now come with me to London Town. (We’re travelling by drone, of course, so hold on tight.)  We are hovering directly over Oxford Circus, above what was once the mighty TopShop. It’s June 2021 and there are very few people milling around. The red buses scurry past pretending nothing has changed, but they ferry a scanty cargo. The Portland stone bears its scars of the amputated logotype like a bitter trophy of better days. Much better days. Nike Town is open and good old Uncle John Lewis is still there to welcome us, albeit in mask and visor, but most of his neighbours have moved out. Tezenis and Microsoft were the first to break the circle. Those shops that steadfastly remain unshuttered do so, it seems, in the hope that those better days will return. They may have a long wait. 

As we swish our way down Regent Street it’s much the same story. Most of the passers-by are local office workers (You can tell by their pace). There are a handful of visitors and even a few sightseers, but there’s not much for them to see today. It’s very clear just how many tourists used to visit London. Brooks Brothers, Desigual, Reiss, All Saints, Ted Baker and Levi’s all gave up on their flagships last year. Hamley’s is frozen into a kind of hibernation waiting for good news. Apple, Burberry and Mappin & Webb are hanging in there, thankfully.

Curving into Piccadilly Circus, the brazen billboards dance poignantly to their dwindling crowd, for they know no better. Whirring left into Shaftesbury Avenue, past rows of homeless tents the damage is obvious. None of the theatres survived, though one or two have been cuckooed for private events. Even the famously irritating Trafalgar Square pigeons are somewhat sparse, presumably having abandoned The Smoke for fatter pickings.

But hardest hit of all is Soho. This is where I lived and worked in my twenties and thirties. It’s where I grew up, where I learnt how exhilarating the world of design and retail can be. Such heady, happy, hard working days. That’s where my old agency was in Soho Square. It now lies hollow and soulless. The entire city is riddled with vacant office space. Like a watery-eyed Ebeneezer, I can picture the hip young guys and girls pouring down the steps at lunchtime to sit in the sun for half an hour. And there’s one of my favourite bars, now shuttered in clothes of iron and chipboard. The deli’s barely recognisable with its white-washed windows, but that’s where I could be found at least three times a week, back in the day. So many of the restaurants I loved have closed, and all but a handful of sandwich bars remain to feed the lunchtime workers. A little over a year ago this place was buzzing with what felt like a billion bars boasting of a nightlife that would see you right through to your Pret breakfast. Surprisingly, some of the more robust brands have vanished too: Wahaca, Barrafina and Princi to name a few. Even Pizza Express pretty much disappeared overnight. It’s sad to think that here on Wardour Street is where it started its journey fifty six years ago. Only a couple of private drinking clubs act as vanguard to keep the Soho spirit alive. Just. It feels like we’ve returned to the 1940s.

I’m sure I’ve cheered you all up with this news from the future, but it’s time to head home now. I don’t like to stay out too long these days. London isn’t what it used to be for sure, but as Joni once sang “you don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone.”

Finally, I must say a very, very big thank you to the highly talented Jan Enkelmann for his stunning Lockdown London images. Thank you Jan.

Now please join me on Twitter @retailfuturist for retail rants, predictions and wry observations

  Howard Saunders   Jun 01, 2020   Uncategorized   Comments Off on IT’S 2021. MEET HOMO-TREPIDATIOUS   Read More