I am not a communist. As I feel I have the right to do as I wish with my property both real and personal and resent and strenuously resist anyone else telling me otherwise, I yet know that my rights end where someone else’s begin.
So it is with Pimlico Road. Keith McCullar and I took a walk through the other day, not so much to visit a dealer, but more to visually survey the health of the trade, with Pimlico Road, in London at least, one of the few remaining venues. Keith and I know of the general predations of landlords, and in particular, the proposed development by the Grosvenor Estate of the 19th century timber yard bang in the center of this venue. A cause célèbre, the proposed development has resulted in a fair old bit of publicity in opposition, including an online petition to present to Westminster Council.
Should I say, though, it is, if there can be such a thing, a minor cause célèbre, as the petition has been online for months, and still has little more than a thousand signatures- not enough to allow its official presentation and review by the local authority- and the press has been mostly in trade publications. Important, yes- but only paramount to those of us whose nostalgic image is of a once thriving trade, and are in a state of angst as we witness that trade in the manner we’ve always known it sink beneath the waves.
With all that, I must say that the most prominent storefront feature along the Pimlico Road is the green graphic film that covers the windows of nearly 25% of the shop fronts, advertising their availability to let- through, of course, the Grosvenor Estate. It occurred to me that, despite the fear on the part of the remaining dealers, with the preponderance of vacancies witnessing a presumed limited demand of new, prospective tenants, development might reasonably be postponed assuming some trepidation on the part of the Grosvenor Estate about offering yet more space available to rent.
Nostalgic for the way the trade was, yes, all of us are. But I must say that, with the plethora of vacant storefronts, I was driven to opine to Keith that we might consider taking space. He looked at me with a mixture of horror and astonishment and nearly yelled the rhetorical query ‘Are you f—ing nuts?’ He was, I need hardly remind anyone, a reluctant shopkeeper for nearly 15 years, and, regaining my sanity a moment later, I have to admit, our virtual as opposed to our actual storefront is not only much more remunerative, but overall, without the daily obligation of unlocking the door and turning the lights on, something akin to having a millstone removed from around one’s neck.
I suppose going back to the point of beginning this blog, while it is, in general, the right of the Grosvenor Estate to do as it will, it is a sodden thought to consider that in accomplishing its yield objectives, yet more of the London trade, and indeed a significant portion of the remaining trade internationally, would be swept away. Am I nostalgic? Well, given that I am nearer the end than the beginning, of course I am. But I am also mindful of the fact that, with the predations I have seen in my lifetime, I can say that, certainly in terms of the built environment, once something is gone, it is gone for good- or, in the case of the Pimlico Road, for ill.