Shoppers of an extraordinary ilk made quite the scene at the Jervis shopping center last week, and no, they weren’t lined up for the latest discount on scented candles. They came armed with offers—up to 13, to be precise—for this Dublin gem subtly placed on the market by its owners, Paddy McKillen and Padraig Drayne. Who needs to buy shoes when you could snag a mall instead?
Now, let’s not forget—this isn’t just any shopping center; it’s one of the last remaining bastions built by the original developers in the ’90s, who clearly mistook the mall’s grandeur for a time machine. Bidding was fierce, ranging from the Comer Group, who might as well be in the real estate Olympics, to US heavyweight Hines, and some characters straight out of a financial thriller, like David Goddard’s Lanthorn.
The scene was set following a bidding frenzy for Marlet’s trio of retail parks—a real-life musical chairs of commercial real estate, with ten initial bids vying for attention. Meanwhile, retail has been the superstar of the property investment sphere, outshining office sales like a glittery disco ball at a wake. After the apocalypse of COVID-19, it seems retail’s resurrection is the unexpected plot twist nobody saw coming.
Reports have indicated that this fabulous comeback has made retail the golden child, accounting for half the total value of property deals. With consumers spending more in-store—shocking, I know—it’s almost as if they realized that clicking “add to cart” doesn’t provide the satisfying rush of immediate gratification that comes with physically hauling shopping bags around. The EY Future Consumer index suggests that 70% of consumers still prefer brick-and-mortar to Amazonian adventures, particularly for everyday items. Bonus points for avoiding the guilt of late-night online shopping.
Enter Jean McCabe, head of Retail Excellence Ireland, with her report that customers are flocking back to stores for the experience—who knew shopping was more than a transaction? It’s almost as if human interaction was lost on us during the pandemic. Retailers have started opening more stores, too, as they scramble to stretch their economies into massive scales. Shopping centers are reinventing themselves with entertainment venues and ever-expanding food offerings, because why just shop when you can also entertain your palate?
Then we have BPerfect Cosmetics, a beauty savior led by Brendan McDowell, who began his retail journey online but opened 13 stores faster than my last online order arrived. They dipped their toes into the physical retail pool with pop-ups galore and tested the waters of shopping malls, finding that leasing rates were ripe for negotiation thanks to all the emptiness. “It was like a free-for-all in Blanchardstown!” he mused, reliving those glorious times of real estate bargains.
As this retail drama unfolds, the market keeps winking at international buyers. Realty Income, which has more money than sense, spent $950 million on the Bellagio casino in Vegas last year—because why not? With returns on shopping centers reaching 6% and retail parks boasting 6.5%, it’s no wonder they’re eyeing Jervis with love-struck gazes. Who wouldn’t want a slice of the mall pie without the calorie count?
Now, moving onward to a slightly dismal note, let’s not overlook some not-so-luxurious truths. While shopping centers in prime areas are thriving, those in less desirable locales are closing faster than a bad comedy club. Reports of British retailers crumbling like soggy biscuits are rampant, with chains like Pepco giving away stores for the price of a fancy coffee. But fear not! The bright side remains—these closures might just serve as the perfect opportunity for new brands to pop up like unsuspecting mushrooms after rain.
In the grand saga that is retail, the evolution of ownership is constant—one minute you’re with an Irish institution, and the next, you’re sold off to a private equity fund quicker than a last-minute holiday deal. But whatever the rollercoaster has in store, it seems new blood is already lining up to take the stage, leaving us chuckling at the absurdity and resilience of retail life.
