Saturday, October 7, 2017

The Decadence of the 80's :: Richland Mall, Columbia, SC

     Back in the day, the open-air mall was all the rage with its brother the enclosed mall. Over time, this certain mall became less fashionable and caused more than enough conversions of enclosing. While there are still vestiges of this seemingly mythical shopping center, it's not the same anymore. This called for more switches, and a few bad ones at that. While some can be blamed on the run-of-the-mill retail rules, some were best described as, "What the actual crap happened here?" And the Richland Mall in the fairly-affluent Columbia neighborhood of Forest Acres is no exception. We would partially recommend clearing your mind, as you seriously may wonder what is wrong with some mall developers. Trust us.


And we begin. Being a dead mall, not much can be said here. What you may see here is a whole lot of aging design. Whoever thought lightbulbs were a great mall lighting device was presumably fired shortly thereafter. I suppose the 15-year variety wasn't around in 1989. Dead Parisian is straight ahead on the second photo.


      For a mall of its type, it had humble beginnings. The mall started out as a small open-air center in 1961, with Augusta anchor JB White bookending the right of the mall. A small moviehouse, Colonial supermarket, Winn-Dixie, and an Eckerd rounded out smaller spaces. This original mall prospered until replacements moved in. In 1969, the city's first enclosed mall came in with Dutch Square Mall on the northwest environs of the city. Columbia Place had unique anchors and was two stories, anchoring the northeast of the city. Filling in the margins were the Bush River, Decker, and Woodhill Malls, which were smaller but rounded out their respective areas. Downtown also maintained a decent store core with Tapp's, Belk, Berry's on Main, and Davison's all having a piece of the pie. This all snowballed downhill until Winn-Dixie was shuttered in Dec 1987, being the pin drop before the bomb. And so Richland Mall as anyone knew it changed forever...



You can get on a dead directory, but a logo on a store that was last used 7 years ago is unexcusable. I truly thought I would never see that logo ever again but today we meet. Wait, does that say Parisian? What kind of a mall did I find...


Looking down to the old Bonwit Teller/Dillard's/The Department Store/Blacklion, now a ping-pong club. It was in use at the time of the photo, but I have a photo of it not in use (as in closed on the hours). In front is a long-disused fountain that is uberly large and surrounds the elevator.

If I moved my camera to the center of the escalator and took this photo I'd have something Dan Bell-worthy. Just place "Dead Mall Series" on the overhead sign area at the top and bingo.
     And so Richland Mall went from unsuspecting open-air mall to an over-the-top mall of uncertainty. JB White's remained, but anchoring the other side of the original mall was Parisian, a Birmingham store unfamiliar to the city. However, White's became a walk-through anchor with the third anchor being Bonwit Teller, an unknown New York retailer that was essentially Nordstrom on steroids. The company behind the transition was the infamous Hooker collective, an Australian company that was the brains (or more harshly, stupidity) behind the Forest Fair Mall project. Forest Fair Mall was another similar mall in Cincinnati with more unknown anchors and built too big for its shoes. While you may wonder how these anchors were brought to a middle-class market, it was more poor business practices. LJ Hooker was the owner of Parisian, BT, B. Altman, and Sakowitz at the time and placed more locations in all the wrong places. Forest Fair could be called even worse, with three of the four anchors mixed in with an Elder-Beerman and a Bigg's hypermarket being excessive.  The anchors however fared much worse with only Parisian surviving and storied institutions never being the same before succumbing to their struggles. On the bright side, both malls had no lack of odd architecture. Yet architecture didn't make a dent in the outcome. LJ Hooker found itself knees-deep in debt with 1.7 billion dollars sitting around unpaid. Chapter 11 bankruptcy came along before purchase by another Australian company.

This is wing that goes off to the old food court. How much I would have given to see it.

Parisian is far off in the distance and the connecting food court side is to the left. If it wasn't that the Columbia Children's Theatre had an audition this day I doubt I would have made it in this wing.
     Financial hoobaloo aside, Richland Mall was stunning for its era. It was elegance second to none in Columbia and LJ Hooker thought it was foolproof. It was a near perfect location for a mall of its type, near downtown and in one of the wealthier parts of town, yet still far from interstates. This interstate problem was pretty much a lost cause, due to the mall's construction before such a thing could be accomplished. Yet Richland struggled for fairly obvious reasons. It's rebirth drowned Columbia in retail and hurt itself. The mall was way too upscale for what Columbia could handle. In a way, Hooker's expectations didn't help the mall. Parking garages were put all around the mall and on top, meaning skylights were impossible to use, creating a very dark mall. Columbians aren't usually fond of parking decks. All this combined to create a tough landscape for retail survival. All this escalated until Bonwit Teller closed in the early 90's (I've heard 1993, 1990, and 1992). Even with the much-less upscale Dillard's chain in its place, the slow decline didn't stop.

Here's the Belk entrance from the Parisian wing. Columbia Children's Theatre is the only operational store in this wing

A small snippet of the food court. China Max closed in 2014. This food court is one of the worst I've seen, and still feels like new, probably because no one ate here.
     By 1995, the mall was in full-blown dead mall status. Management was switching hands every time you blinked, never good for redevelopment. Anything started could be stopped after a new purchase. Around this time, Richland Fashion Mall became Richland Mall, as you had a greater chance of getting depression here than a new pair of pants. During the time, two small renovations were completed. One moved a TGI Friday's and added a Barnes and Noble. The other moved the food court to another location on the main mall's first floor, between then-White's and Parisian. The old food court then housed a call center for Verizon. All of this was topped off by the consolidation of White's to North Carolina's Belk chain in 1998. Little was done to the original White's, cool escalators included.

Finishing off the food court here. This is very blurry for some reason.

Elevator fountain detail. To the right is the old Dillard's.

Here's from the elevator to the B&N/Belk area. I'm oddly intrigued on what the store on the corner to the left once was.

Here we are going from Belk all the way to the Dillard's. This mall isn't very big without the old food court.
     Dillard's closed its doors in 2003, creating a vacancy that was barely filled. Blacklion, a furniture store, took the reins before giving way to the creatively named The Department Store. Parisian closed in 2007, just before their nameplate would become Belk. All through this time, management swapped even more times. Richland Mall was falling down the sink, and this problem was exacerbated by closings throughout. Bath and Body Works, yes, the dead mall king, closed in 2012. When your BB&W closes, you are doing terribly. And the mall is indeed doing terribly.

Coming from Belk to the food court area. What is with the colorful painting down on the left?

Looking down into the old food court. I like the hurricane simulator down there.

Looking inside the old Parisian, uncovered and to full view. You rarely see an anchor covered with clear glass and as visible to mall walkers.
     If you are such a dead mall, what can you do? Of course the solution here means a sad end to a visually assaulting mall, but the factors are there. I would destroy the main mall, parking decks
included, aside from the Belk, Barnes and Noble, and the front strip of stores. This would mean the mall would become a strip mall of sorts with major anchors. The Dillard's would be the replacement location for the rooftop theatre. Parisian could become a big-box tenant or more stores. Every remaining business in the mall would be given a similar-sized location in the new mall. It could become a new Trenholm Plaza and attract the same kind of stores. Trenholm Plaza is a historic, upscale strip mall a little to the east of Richland. It included a Tapp's store that was a key anchor for many years, and using it the mall had the ability to enclose. It never did so and is still successful today.

Escalators run from the second floor to the rooftop deck. That was once a clock as shown. 

From the balcony area to the Belk. Regal Cinemas is on top and is very hard to find unless you are looking for it.

The Parisian looks the same as always. This is from a skybridge between the food court and the parking garage.
     So, for obvious reasons, visit Richland while you can. I find it to be pretty underrated as cool dead malls go, and is a respectable alternative to Forest Fair. Belk is even a relic here, and shows its age. There is no doubt you can find anything of vintage here, and this is an age where vintage is quickly disappearing. You won't be doing any shopping here most likely, but you may find some cool sights. After all, visiting a dead mall doesn't have the end goal of purchase, but more or less the goal of memory.

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