The Demise of the Factory Outlet

The new school year is approaching, and with it come certain annual expectations of fashion. Namely, students and teachers are expected to appear on the first days and weeks of school in the finest collections of apparel that they possess. The idea is to send a message of sorts; you are the real deal, you mean business, you will succeed ... reinforced because you dress for success.

These expectations are embraced and honoured with delight by the vast majority of those who frequent school halls, with few exceptions.

I, for better or for worse, consider myself an exception. Not that I dislike a sharp new shirt, or a spanky new pair of shoes; I simply regard the ordeal of The Shopping Trip to be mildly torturous - sometimes severely so.

So it was with some relief that I looked forward to my visit to Washington state's factory outlets, which spread northward from Seattle to Everett to Bellingham, with the odd Wal-Mart or Fred Meyers thrown into the mix for good measure. Surely, I thought, the factory outlets - most famously, the ones located at Tulalip - will greet me with quality merchandise and insanely low prices. I'll be able to find absolutely everything needed for the school year in one fell swoop, and The Shopping Trip will quickly fade into the oblivion of past memory.

I wasn't so lucky.

Together, my wife and I stopped at several factory outlets, most of them grouped in complexes of so-called big box stores. Seldom, if ever, were we greeted with low prices. Instead, we braved crowds of grumpy families and teeny boppers to explore all the well-known brand names: Old Navy, Banana Republic, Ambercrombie & Fitch, The Gap, etc. Failing at the well-known, we tried the low-profile stores. No luck there either.

You know you're in trouble when the prices on apparel look even higher than they would in Canada. And that's before the exchange.

That's when I realized it. 'Factory outlets' no longer exist. They've simply become extinct.

A little web research confirmed what I thought 'factory outlets' were supposed to be:

1. "A manufacturer-owned store selling that firm's closeouts, discontinued merchandise, irregulars, and canceled orders."

2. "A shopping center with factory outlets or close-out outlets selling discounted merchandise. Often located along the main freeway outside of a major metropolitan."

3. "Shops, often outside town centres, selling ‘seconds’ and end of line goods at discounted prices."

All of the definitions listed above rang familiar. At least, they jive with my vague (former) notions of factory outlets. Yet as I compare these definitions with my occasional run-ins with factory outlets over the last few years, it's easy to see the incongruity.

Here's the reality. Factory outlets were, I'm sure at one time, an efficient way for major brands to dump their 'end-of-line' and 'irregular' merchandise. Factories and retail outlets would ship off their ugly ducklings in bulk, thus dealing with embarrassing merchandise in a somewhat profitable way. The savvy bargain hunter would snatch these goods up, willing to buy a pair of shoe two sizes too big in exchange for steep discounts, etc. Call it a win-win situation.

It's my suspicion that over time, the major retailers started to notice the high traffic, attention, and (most importantly) dollars that these factory outlets were attracting. Perhaps subtly at first, and in small amounts, they began stocking high-end merchandise. The less savvy shoppers snapped up these items, encouraging the big brands to up the portion of high-end stock. Not to be outdone, their competitors did the same.

This spiral continued and continued until you have what we have today: 'factory outlets' that are really nothing of the kind. These stores are no more connected to their parent factories than mall retailers. Tulalip, by the way, is really just that: a large outdoor mall.

So it was with some sadness and irritation that I drove out of Washington. After half a dozen stops, I hadn't bought a thing. I felt humiliated and disappointed, like a high school senior stood up on prom night. I had high hopes for the factory outlets, and they hadn't delivered.

The bad taste is still in my mouth, but I feel enlightened. Factory outlets are simply a myth, and I won't be back.