Change sprawls constantly across the storefronts on the postcard streets of downtown Ridgewood, New Jersey.
The big avenue, East Ridgewood, cuts across streets called Walnut, Chestnut and Oak, and then abuts the train station that connects this commuter suburb to New York City. It's a town where anything is reachable within five, 10 minutes of driving, and its center is the proverbial Main Street.
"Ridgewood has always been known as the place to go shopping," says Joan Groome, who has lived here since 1968, when she opened a ski shop above a family-run store selling gifts and art.
Over the years, Groome watched a wave of big-box chains sweep through Ridgewood and then a wave of banks. Local retail like hers strived and survived or went under; doors have shut on a beloved stationery store, a family-owned pharmacy, a hardware shop.
Now a new shift is reshaping this downtown, as it has many around the U.S.: Stores that sell things are giving way to shops that sell services — spas, gyms, restaurants.
"We have now 11 barbershops in town," says Groome, now the executive director of the Ridgewood Chamber of Commerce. Around her, on just this one block, three ice cream cafés have opened, with a milkshake shop opening soon.
Last year marked the first time that the majority of U.S. retail space was leased to tenants selling services rather than goods, according to real estate data firm CoStar. This change is a response to changing spending habits, and it is shaking up malls, suburban shopping hubs and Main Streets nationwide.
A long-term trend at play
This year, in the 20 biggest metropolitan areas, CoStar data shows retail tenants declining for the third year in a row, while personal services and entertainment are ballooning: escape rooms and virtual golfing, medical spas and Pilates studios.
"Over the very long term, consumers have switched a lot of spending from retail goods to services in terms of share of wallet," says John Mercer, who tracks the state of retail at the analytics firm Coresight Research. "We think that that kind of long-term pattern will continue."
This shift was temporarily interrupted by the lockdowns of the coronavirus pandemic but has since roared back. And it's generally fueled by the wealthier spenders, though Mercer says surveys also suggest that some people choose to trade down to cheaper goods to redirect that saved money to services, for outings and experiences.
Much of the change is driven by what's on trend: wellness, beauty, fitness. And, of course, online shopping plays a huge role: When any purchase is a click away, people who physically go out to shop are often looking for more — for fun, an activity.
As Groome puts it: "You can't stroll Amazon."
Math is different for a mall vs. downtown
The building where Groome once had her ski shop is now a sushi spot. Her old bank — complete with the preserved vault and deposit boxes — is an Italian-inspired restaurant with a rooftop bar. Plenty of Ridgewood stores still sell things — clothes, shoes, home decor, antiques — but there are also over a hundred eateries, dozens of coffee shops, spas, salons, a stretching studio.
A trendy bakery recently opened across the street from Bookends, a small bookstore with a basement for book signings, which has been open since the 1980s. Store manager David Logan says the new neighbor has brought him new business.
"People walk out of there, and I've got my door open, so they see we're open," he says. Many leave the café straight for Bookends, he says. Often, it's mothers with little children, who linger in the kids section with activity books and Legos.
This is how the shift toward more services has played out in some of the busier malls. Shopping centers have been adding arcades, gyms and even health clinics as a way to draw people more regularly. But the math is less straightforward for downtowns, where a new eatery or gym tends to replace a shop, so more services often mean fewer shops.
"Because there's not as much retail," Logan says, "people are basically coming in just to go to the restaurant, and they may not necessarily walk around town."
Can't stroll down Instagram either
A few doors down, behind the counter of her jewelry store, Gina Jeon is also conflicted.
"I wonder if a town changing from beautiful boutique shops to more food and services — I wonder if that enriches the value of the town or takes away from it," she says.
Jeon's shop, Hot Jewelry Box, is an explosion of crystals and gemstones, silver and gold. She custom-makes jewelry by hand, letting shoppers pick their designs, and rearranges a section of the store every day — trying to give people reasons to visit, in person, again and again.
Jeon thinks more beautiful shops get people to shop more, while more restaurants don't. As she talks, she's hooking a charm onto a beaded chain for shopper Kate Ulrich, who's here for the second time in two days, to buy a green-and-red version of the necklace she'd previously bought in blue, green and white.
"I just like it because you can kind of mix and match your own, and you don't have to pay these like crazy internet prices that we're all duped into paying," Ulrich says. "It's like they just upcharge everything on Instagram because you see it, you love it, you have to have it."
Ulrich grew up down the highway and came to Jeon's shop as a child, when the store first opened two decades ago. Now she drives a half hour to Ridgewood to see her sister, who recently moved here with family, and they do exactly what local shop owners hope.
"It's fun to kind of walk the stroller up and down the street," Ulrich says. "You can kind of peer into everywhere because … it's something to do."
They snack and shop, buying things and little treats along the way — maybe some of that endlessly available ice cream — strolling, which you cannot do on Instagram either.
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