Originally Posted June 21, 2005
Many people think Costco was an invention of California. It wasn't. Costco was born and raised right here in the verdant NW, corporately masterminded in Issaquah. The first one sprouted up in the environs of Seattle almost a quarter of a century ago. Costco, a wholesale retail outlet that typically settles in remote locations to keep real-estate overhead at minimal levels, became embroiled in a heated battle with Priceclub in the mid 80s, winning out and buying out the rival company, skyrocketing Costco as the dominant membership based warehouse-seller in the US economy. It's no-frills, cement and re-bar environment paved the way for a new era of consumerism-- one that focuses less on flashy displays and superfluous marketing techniques and settles on the nitty-gritty: selling high-volume with rapid-turnover in addition to procuring membership fees in order to pass on staggering savings to the customer.
Costco has becoming synomous with exogenous perceptions of American culture: big, bulk, and uniform. Nothing at Costco comes "Le Petit". You don't go to Costco to buy a few items, or an impulsive pack of gum: you leave with more than you feel like you can digest. Costco is one of the only retailers where flatbed-carts are offered as a reasonable alternative adjacent to normal-sized shopping carts. It is based on the same subliminal and nebulous marketing technique known as "upsizing", where the consumer typically leaves with more material than he/she intended to leave with, at an inversely exponential fraction of savings. The lure of this indelible practice in our culture for retailers is as obvious as the gaudy displays of marketing grandiosity. Get the consumer in for a taste, then offer the whole pie for a little bit more. It preys on American's inability to eschew greed for moderation, and it works great.
When I was in Europe, I never saw any mega-stores quite like Costco. Sure there were markets that carried a bevy of goods, but none that held the sheer volume and selection of a Walmart or Target. Everything was localized. Most items were purchased at specialty stores, patissaries, boulangeries, brasseries, or open flea markets. European's last bastion of national individuality is held in this informal decree. When someone talks of the non-stop barrage of globalization, "Americanization", or "Mconaldization", they aren't specifically referring to the employment of 11-year-old Laotian amputees in sweatshops, but the growing tide of encroachment on these slowing drowning beacons of culture. The sad fact is, however, the economy is pretty much unstoppable. French people will begin to realize they would rather pay 11 cents for a baguette instead of 1euro40, and these monolithic superstores will begin sweeping into the historical outposts of civilization. Costco's tentacles only sinew up into the UK and Japan right now, and I doubt that it will spill into any of the EU for a a long time.
Neoclassical economics aside, and cultural morals aside, there's something I love about these stores other than the rock-bottom prices, the quality-control of the goods, and our AMAZING level of customer service in America (If there is one thing we take for granted in this country, its how respected the phrase "Can i see your manager?" is). It's the well-lubricated efficiency, the briskness of a management based structure, and all of it being a throwback to the heyday of the Rockafellers and Morgans and Pullmans (minus the employee-abuse).
Easiest way to smuggle-out 5 pallets of Kirkland Bottled Water
The other week Costco announced they would be teaming up with a California based funeral-services company to sell coffins. All obvious jokes aside, Costco has become an organization that is a microcosm of the country. You could live there and have all of your worldly needs attended to, from life to death.
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