The Facebook post went up on a Sunday afternoon. It caught everyone by surprise. "We've been around for a while," it said. It also said: "After 60 years in business we are closing our doors." The feedback came in a deluge. One described the shop as "iconic". "Sad," said another. "The end of an era," said a third. Someone asked, wistfully, mournfully: "Where shall we go now?"
The following day, Te Atatū Menswear was buzzing. Giant yellow "SALE" signs were plastered over the front window. Hats and caps promised 30% off. Short-sleeve shirts were 40% off. Best value of all was a hanger full of ties at 60% off. Customers flicked through racks of sweaters, shirts and jackets, browsed shelves of casual pants and shorts, picked out bargains they liked.
The doorbell pinged constantly. When the phone rang, no one could find it. "Where's it gone?" asked someone. On Monday afternoon, Wilma and Malcolm Buscomb barely had time to talk before another customer popped through their soon-to-be-closed doors.
Many were well-wishers. Some just wanted a bargain. "Socks! You need more socks?" Wilma asked one, leading the man towards the back of the store. He had what he needed in seconds.
A friend arrived carrying a gift basket and champagne. "I bought you special treats," she said. "You shocked us all." It was the middle of the afternoon, everyone was masked up, and the air conditioning was on full blast. She couldn't resist a hug, wrapping her arms around Malcolm by a rack of beach shorts (30% off). Then, she declared, happily: "You can come on one of our three-day cruises now."
Te Atatū Menswear, found smack bang in the middle of a block of shops opposite Te Atatū Peninsula's Community Centre, also sells tees, ties, tops, bottoms, hats, scarves, wallets, sunglasses, school uniforms, sports equipment, office wear, beach wear, womenswear and underwear. It is a Needful Things for a gentrified community.
Te Atatū Menswear in the early days. Photos / Supplied
It's been there for 60 years, opened by Malcolm's father Reg in 1962. Malcolm started as a teen, helping out during school holidays. "I didn't know what I was doing when I came here," he said, standing by a rack of orderly sports coats (50% off), proudly wearing one of the shop's short-sleeved shirts. He's never really wanted to do anything else. "I never left."
He bought the business when his father retired in 1987 and, along with his wife Wilma, it's what they've done together ever since. They've watched stores open and close around them, and fashion trends come and go – "flares in the 70s, stovepipe pants, the loud shirts," said Malcolm. "It's something different all the time. It keeps things interesting."
Te Atatū Menswear has always been there. Soon, it will be no more. Fans have just three months – perhaps less, depending how the sale goes – to stock up on supplies before the doors close for good. Wilma and Malcolm started thinking about retirement during last year's lockdown. The lease expires at the end of the year. Sales had dwindled. They decided it was time.
"Who knows if it's going to be better or worse next year," shrugged Malcolm, beside the sunglasses stand (30% off). Despite Te Atatū Peninsula's booming population, decades of history and generations of loyal customers, it's just time. "It's really hard work to keep everything going, to get stock, to get people out shopping," agreed Wilma. "We're at that age."
Malcolm, like his dad, prided himself on offering quality clothes at affordable prices. "We do good quality for what you get, good value for money," he said. "It lasts, it looks nicer for longer." They never bought in bulk, preferring to stock a little of a lot. "Once they're gone, that's it." Malcolm loves their store's offerings. Like everyone, he plans on stocking up. "You don't need as much when you retire."
Where will customers go now? Malls, said Malcolm. Those huge shopping arenas, along with the growth of online retail, have put suburban stores like his out of business. There was a time when everyone stayed home and shopped in their own suburbs. Butchers, bakers, clothes: everything you needed was walking distance away. That's long since passed. Malcolm can rattle off the handful of menswear stores left around the country.
"The times they are a-changin'," sang Bob Dylan in 1964, two years after Te Atatū Menswear opened. "There's a lot cheaper stuff on the market these days and people have been conditioned to buy cheap," said Malcolm, as he stood by an impressive range of tees (40% off). They tried to sell the business, but couldn't, and have no willing heirs. "You don't want to be in retail," cautioned Malcolm. "It's too hard as a small business."
They're going to miss helping parents find the right children's sports gear, or fitting school uniforms onto kids they get to see grow up, one visit at a time. But Wilma and Malcolm want to retire. They want that peaceful life. If it's not yet safe to cruise overseas, they'll look at motor homes. Aside from Covid-19 lockdowns, the only holidays they've had are a handful of days between Christmas and New Years Eve.
Standing by shelves full of casual trousers (30% off), Malcolm crossed his arms. He looked ready for a break. He also looked at peace with their decision. "All things come to an end at some stage," he said. "Nothing stays the same forever." The doorbell pinged again. Sometime soon, it will be for the last time.
