The news that Hudson’s Bay, a retail institution with roots stretching back over 350 years, is facing closure is undeniably sad. For many Canadians, including myself, the Bay has been a fixture of our shopping experiences for decades.

I fondly recall the quirky “Great names at the Bay” commercials featuring CEO Bob Peter – one with Cher – a truly unique moment in Canadian advertising back in the ’90s.

And who could forget the excitement of the “Scratch ‘n Save” weekends, where discounts were a game of roulette at checkout?

Most of my kitchen once came from the Bay – fridge, dishwasher, kettle, toaster and all sorts. I can still remember the friendly salesman – Murray – who helped me snag the best deal and sometimes encouraged me (ever so quietly) to wait a week so for a better price.

The potential closure has far-reaching consequences with nearly 10,000 jobs at stake and the Bay’s up-market cousins, Saks Fifth Avenue and Saks Off 5th also in the liquidation boat.  

And for long-time Hudson’s Bay shoppers whose reward program is now paused? Well, that’s just the cherry on top of this retail sundae of sadness.

So what went wrong?

Looking back, it’s perhaps easy to pinpoint some of the challenges the Bay faced.

Covid had a devastating impact and retail traffic – particularly in malls – has been struggling ever since.

In my view, the Bay’s online presence was lagging behind the times: Browsing was less window shopping and more what I can only describe as ‘labyrinth navigation’. Search filters were either limited or required a PhD in Advanced Boolean Logic of Retail Frustration. And if you actually did manage to buy something, fulfillment moved at the speed of a sloth.

Moving in-store – or at least outside – I vividly remember the Bay’s doors at Yonge and Bloor in Toronto were always a challenge: Half a dozen glass doors – some would open, some wouldn’t. And the odd one that did was extraordinarily heavy to move.

The pins that littered fitting room floors. The confusing mishmash of music that created a chaotic shopping atmosphere. Or perhaps it was the escalators staging a permanent sit-down protest – turning a simple shopping trip into an unexpected workout? And let’s not forget those rebel store hours that played hide-and-seek with mall hours.

Is this farewell…?

I took a nostalgic walk through the Bay’s Queen Street location last week which was equally challenging: More locked doors, coupled with extensive street construction that make this last remaining bastion of retail familiarity a fragile choice for survival. Familiar out of service escalators, empty shelves and very few staff only reinforced the feeling that this once vibrant retail landmark is also on borrowed time.

It’s like that friend who keeps saying “I’m fine!” while their life is clearly on fire in the dumpster. Except this time, the dumpster fire is a national retail institution. And sadly, the Hudson’s Bay’s 17th-century fur trade origins don’t seem to be able to protect it from 21st-century retail realities.

So, perhaps this is farewell, Hudson’s Bay. While the future remains uncertain, the memories of browsing through slightly dusty shelves and the thrill of finding a hidden gem with my Scratch ‘n Save card will linger.  And we’ll always remember the Bay, even if we had to climb a few flights of stairs to find a deal.