What’s it like to own a strip mall? For one thing, you don’t call it a strip mall. “I prefer to call it a retail center. It sounds less transient,” says Deb Pearson, the petite, dark-haired marketing director of Ann Arbor-based Oxford Companies over a cup of tea at Foggy Bottom, Dexter Crossing‘s coffee shop. Oxford bought the shopping plaza (another polite term) at the corner of Dexter-Ann Arbor Rd. and Dan Hoey Rd., in 2012, and it’s Pearson’s job to fill it.
Whatever you call them, they’re struggling these days. Both Dexter Crossing, built in 2000, and its newer neighbor across the street flanking Busch’s have noticeable vacancies. “People are shopping less,” Pearson agrees–big-box stores and online sales haven’t been kind to the small stores that traditionally fill up these centers. “But they’re a necessity for the community. People appreciate being able to stop in and get something quickly.” And Dexter, she points out, doesn’t have any big-box stores.
Scattered between the anchors, Country Market and a St. Joe’s-affiliated internal medicine and pediatrics practice, are GNC (vitamins); a Hallmark shop; Foggy Bottom; Jet’s Pizza; the curiously named Food Zone Chinese restaurant; and some services. Finding complementary tenants is “like a puzzle,” Pearson says. “Things need to fit together. There’s food, of course, but if you have too many restaurants they’re each other’s competition,” though she would welcome that elusive holy grail of the Dexter food scene, a Mexican restaurant.
So far none have signed on the dotted line, but she has prospects. And “people still do like to shop for clothing. Activities are good–like laser tag or gyms. Spas and yoga studios are creeping up, and, of course, nails and hair.” Dry cleaning and insurance are old standbys. She also thinks that some kind of grab-and-go food operation might work–Foggy Bottom has coffee and tea drinks, but only limited snacks. Oxford is also a strong believer in local and independent businesses, like the recently departed Kids Fashion Jungle. “If you want to go into business, and you don’t have proven financials, it can be hard to find a landlord who will gamble on you,” Pearson says. But Oxford likes “start-ups, if they have a unique concept, or if they have some community support behind them.”
Oxford’s acquisition of Dexter Crossing was unfortunately timed, from Oxford’s point of view; the sale happened right before a tornado flattened a lot of the neighborhood in 2012. But it’s been a lucky break for the tenants (Country Market wasn’t part of the deal–it owns its building). “It is surprisingly well built for what it is. We thought we could add value and put together the right mix,” Pearson says. They spruced it up, adding a new facade with under-soffit lighting. And finally, after a lot of wrangling, in April the city approved Oxford’s application for three lighted monument signs, which Pearson expects will go up in mid-June: she says better signage is critical to the center’s ability to attract casual passersby, and consequently, tenants. “There’s a deep setback, which is in some ways good”–allowing for a gracious swath of green lawn fronting the parking lot, but, with no signage listing the individual stores, it’s hard to see what’s in there from the road.
The tenants seem happy. The counter guy at Foggy Bottom chatted amiably with customers about the acoustic music he and some friends occasionally play at night on the stage in back. Sally Gretka, manager at Little Green Apple Hallmark, says Oxford has “the fastest snow removal people in town,” and calls the St. Joe’s practice, which moved in last July, “the best thing that’s happened here in years.”
Pearson muses on about other tenants that are looking for space in small centers like this, including “… tattoo parlors, vaping. We have some reticence about vaping. Everything isn’t settled with the FDA.” And along the same lines, “eventually marijuana dispensaries. I anticipate that once marijuana is legalized, and I think it will be, it will be out in these [kinds of] malls.”
Editor’s note: This article aimed not just to examine Dexter Crossing, but also to engage readers in a larger discussion about small suburban shopping centers and the impact of social, commercial, and legal changes on leasing arrangements. However, it may have been open to a narrower interpretation. Following its publication, Deb Pearson wrote the Community Observer. “We have members of the Dexter community now concerned that we are going to put a dispensary in the center or a tattoo parlor. We are left doing damage control on something that is not only not happening, but something that we simply would not do. Based on the demographics for the area and the care we take in finding the right tenant for a vacancy, this statement suggests the opposite of our practices in retail leasing. Just filling up the space with any kind of retailer is not how we operate. We consider both the mix of the retailers to attract community members without undo competition as well as what use we think would be an asset to the community.”
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Bailiwicks–purveyor of fine fly rods and the clothing and accessories to go with them–changed its name to the Painted Trout. Other than the name change, says co-owner Lauren Kingsley, there is “absolutely no change in ownership, mission, merchandise, or anything else.”
The change came at the suggestion of a consultant Kingsley and partner Dirk Fischbach hired. Michael Melet is “actually the father of a friend of mine who’s had a lot of experience in retail. It was an interesting thing. I thought he was going to come in and tell us how to rearrange the shelves or something, but he gave us a penetrating analysis of our situation. His strongest and most important recommendation was to change the name.”
“Bailiwicks” was a problem because “Frankly, a lot of people didn’t know what ‘bailiwick’ meant, or didn’t know how to pronounce it. English majors got it, but no one else did” (n. wik, 1. one’s sphere of operations or particular area of interest).
Kingsley already had a business on the side called the Painted Trout, designing and manufacturing what she calls “fine goods for the sporting life” that were sold in the store, so this is a merging of the two businesses.
The Painted Trout, 7940 Ann Arbor St., 580-2102. Tues. noon-6 p.m., Wed. 10 a.m.- 6 p.m., Thurs. 10 a.m.-8 p.m., Fri. 10 a.m.- 9 p.m., Sat. 10 a.m. – 6 p.m., Sun. noon-5 p.m. paintedtrout.com
