More than 50 years ago, I worked as an assistant buyer of men’s furnishings at Abraham & Straus, in its elegant downtown Brooklyn flagship store on Fulton Street. It was, according to Wikipedia, “the unrivaled gem of New York City department stores.” During my time at A&S, as it was affectionately known throughout Brooklyn, I recall no African American employees, although the white-gloved female elevator operators – among the last in the city’s department stores - may have been African American.
Not only were there few if any black employees, there were hardly any black customers. So few were they, in fact, that I still recall two light-skinned middle-aged African American women, perhaps sisters, who came in to shop. Although they behaved no differently from our other customers and looked as if they could well afford the store's merchandise, they attracted attention.
In 1994, A&S was acquired by Macy’s, which the next year replaced the A&S brand with its own name. Only a plaque at the entrance recalls the store’s original identity. But more than the name has changed. When we moved to Brooklyn a few years ago and I walked down to Fulton Street, I saw that the street’s customer base had altered completely. The Fulton Street Mall, which attracts 100,000 shoppers a day, reminded me of a downtown street in Africa, with few white faces to be seen. Brooklyn now, in fact, contains the largest black community in the United States, and it constitutes more than one third of the borough's residents. Most of the pedestrians I saw were not only African American, but also poor. Indeed most of the stores on the Mall seemed to provide goods at cut-rate prices. And not only were the Macy’s customers black, so was the sales staff. I noted not a single white employee on the several floors on which I shopped.
But the nature of the street is changing and along with it the character of the store that was once A&S. In the past few years, downtown Brooklyn has seen the construction of many upscale residential towers, and these are now sprinkled on both sides of Fulton Street. Our temporary apartment is in a similar building, although it’s not new, but an office tower recently converted into residential condos. Most of the stores in our immediate neighborhood are of the low-priced variety. The fish market on the next block, for example, does not sell wild salmon. But the new supermarket a few blocks from here sells the most luxurious produce and products, much of it organic, and nearby Atlantic Avenue now offers many shops that sell expensive clothing and home furnishings. The customers in these stores, like the residents of most of the new apartments, are young and prosperous. This clientele is bound to attract more upscale stores as well as more upscale merchandise in those stores that remain. A $15 million program to improve the Fulton Street Mall with landscaping and additional seating is underway.
So downtown Brooklyn is once again becoming a destination for the middle and upper middle classes. Like other sections of the city it continues to change. Harlem is again attracting many middle and upper middle class residents, for example, and residential housing is returning to the financial district after more than 160 years, although its residents now live in towers rather than in brick town houses with back gardens. Nothing stays the same forever except change.
Not only were there few if any black employees, there were hardly any black customers. So few were they, in fact, that I still recall two light-skinned middle-aged African American women, perhaps sisters, who came in to shop. Although they behaved no differently from our other customers and looked as if they could well afford the store's merchandise, they attracted attention.
In 1994, A&S was acquired by Macy’s, which the next year replaced the A&S brand with its own name. Only a plaque at the entrance recalls the store’s original identity. But more than the name has changed. When we moved to Brooklyn a few years ago and I walked down to Fulton Street, I saw that the street’s customer base had altered completely. The Fulton Street Mall, which attracts 100,000 shoppers a day, reminded me of a downtown street in Africa, with few white faces to be seen. Brooklyn now, in fact, contains the largest black community in the United States, and it constitutes more than one third of the borough's residents. Most of the pedestrians I saw were not only African American, but also poor. Indeed most of the stores on the Mall seemed to provide goods at cut-rate prices. And not only were the Macy’s customers black, so was the sales staff. I noted not a single white employee on the several floors on which I shopped.
But the nature of the street is changing and along with it the character of the store that was once A&S. In the past few years, downtown Brooklyn has seen the construction of many upscale residential towers, and these are now sprinkled on both sides of Fulton Street. Our temporary apartment is in a similar building, although it’s not new, but an office tower recently converted into residential condos. Most of the stores in our immediate neighborhood are of the low-priced variety. The fish market on the next block, for example, does not sell wild salmon. But the new supermarket a few blocks from here sells the most luxurious produce and products, much of it organic, and nearby Atlantic Avenue now offers many shops that sell expensive clothing and home furnishings. The customers in these stores, like the residents of most of the new apartments, are young and prosperous. This clientele is bound to attract more upscale stores as well as more upscale merchandise in those stores that remain. A $15 million program to improve the Fulton Street Mall with landscaping and additional seating is underway.
So downtown Brooklyn is once again becoming a destination for the middle and upper middle classes. Like other sections of the city it continues to change. Harlem is again attracting many middle and upper middle class residents, for example, and residential housing is returning to the financial district after more than 160 years, although its residents now live in towers rather than in brick town houses with back gardens. Nothing stays the same forever except change.
How fascinating to be able to witness such changes! Even more remarkable - to remember what places used to be like.
ReplyDeleteIf you live long enough you see many changes. My late father remembers his boyhood ambition of driving a team of horses that pull a hay wagon. As a driver, he could sit on a large pile of hay and survey the world as the wagon moved on.
ReplyDeleteAll good...as long as the influx of middle and upper classes doesn't simply squeeze out those who have the least flexibility. Manhattan has quickly become a place that is prohibitively expensive to live. As a result, in part, Manhattan has lost the character of the neighborhoods it once had. How long before the outer boroughs succumb to the same pressures?
ReplyDelete