First Avenue steps up
Hot spot shows it's ready to do business

By CONSTANCE SOMMER
SEATTLE POST-INTELLIGENCER REPORTER

A mini-hike from Pike Place Market or a short stroll west of central downtown, where Nordstrom is redeveloping its flagship amid a flurry of new national chain stores, lies a street balancing on the razor's edge of cool.

First Avenue is awakening as an epicenter of maverick retail.

Its merchants hawk evening dresses and pornography, warm crusty breads and $2,400 colored glass bowls. Mostly small business owners, they do things their way, banking on customers adventuresome enough to brave wind, rain and lack of parking in the quest to find something different.

By many accounts, these store owners are a querulous lot, unable to agree on a common image or slogan for their patchwork quilt of a boulevard. Consequently many who live and work in the region haven't heard the buzz.

This is it: First Avenue is spiffin' up and growin' up. From Belltown to Pike Place to Harbor Steps, the street hums with its own racy energy. For every hole-in-the-wall armaments store there's a hole-in-the-wall clothing store with blouses straight out of Melrose or SoHo. The all-nude dancing clubs share street frontage with Seattle's art museum and a rainbow-colored Wolfgang Puck Cafe.

"There's a spirit, a feel. . . . It's exciting to walk down First Avenue," said Lucinda Payne, marketing director for the Downtown Seattle Association, the organization spearheading downtown revitalization. "But it is a very hard message to get out, and boy, have we tried."

Planet Hollywood -- now there's a concept a marketing director can grab onto and run with. Movie stars, international locales, prime setting in the heart of downtown, more movie stars. Why, it's organized more like a marketing plan than a restaurant, anyhow. The restaurant at Sixth and Pike, Payne says, is an easy sell and a natural crowd draw.

Downtown core stores and eateries, the ones that cluster like planets around the sun that is Nordstrom's flagship, come equipped with the same glossy appeal. Many share corporate images carefully nurtured in suburban malls or other cities. Shoppers know what to expect before they even walk in the door.

But First Avenue has Shakir Kaymaz. He spent three years holed up in Westlake Center as owner of Alhambra, an upscale women's clothing boutique. The experience, with its high customer traffic, squeezed space and long hours, just about drove him nuts.

"The mall is not a comfortable environment," said Kaymaz, seated on a chair in Alhambra's second incarnation, on the corner of First and Pine. New Age music wafts through the air and supernally calm salespeople offer cups of steaming tea to browsers.

In his quest for a spiritually fulfilling store, Kaymaz watched profits suffer for four years. Only in the last 18 months has his income rebounded to where it was when he pulled Alhambra from the mall.

"In terms of revenue, you cannot beat the mall," he continued. "But the bottom line is, when we made this decision, we were not looking for revenues, really. We were looking to establish a concept. The idea is how can we create an atmosphere our customers will enjoy."

Customers who do find Kaymaz and his equally fashionable neighbors come away impressed.

"This is fabulous -- but the parking is crazy," said Sharon of Covina, Calif., who would not give her last name, standing outside John Fluevog Shoes at Pine and First one autumnafternoon. "The stores are unique, individual. It's far different from what I get in L.A."

Unlike the malls, there is no free parking. Most parking is in small lots clustered at the Belltown end of the street. And what little on-street parking exists is usually taken.

Still, Gayle Tajima of Wedgwood shops on First Avenue every chance she gets. "The shops down here carry items that you wouldn't find in a department store," she said.

Like Alhambra, many of the street's stores moved in only within the last 10 years.

Continued:


• Street struggles to shake off seedy past
• Downtown living has also seen new vigor
• First one of last refuges from chain stores