As an add-on to yesterday's post about ground floor retail in mixed-use developments, I thought I would provide a few illustrative and real-world examples to demonstrate some of the challenges that I was trying to describe.
Note that this post is not meant to be critical of any specific projects; instead, it's intended to further explain some of the challenges facing developers, architects, policy makers, and everyone else involved in the built environment.
Let's start in Toronto. Below is an aerial photo of Ossington Avenue. For those of you who aren't familiar, this is one of the most desirable and coolest main streets in city. I mean, check out this recently completed office/retail building at 12 Ossington by Hullmark.
However, when the above townhouse complex was built (circa 2005), Ossington was not the street that it is today. In fact, it used to be pretty scuzzy. When I moved to the US for grad school in 2006, I don't recall anyone going out on Ossington. Then when I returned in 2009, suddenly, everyone was going to restaurants and bars on Ossington.
So when this project was being planned, residential directly on the street, was probably the highest-and-best use, which is why that's what was built. But looking at it today, it feels like a suboptimal outcome for one of the most desirable retail streets in the city. And now that it has been built, it's unlikely to change anytime soon. Should retail have been mandated?
Here is another example from Toronto. This is the north side of High Park. In this case, the street (Bloor Street) is not a great retail street. It's single-sided because of the park. There's only a scattering of restaurants and small businesses. There are a lot of single-use buildings. And even some of the newish developments don't have any ground floor retail.
In this particular instance, it's certainly more of a stretch to force retail. But at the same time, I think there's an argument to be made that the edges of Toronto's primary urban park should do more. The buildings should be taller. The street walls should be more defined. And yes, maybe there should be more retail.
Now here's a counter example from Paris:
This is the 7th and there's absolutely no ground floor retail in sight and pretty much only blank and non-active facades. It's hard to imagine retail opening up here today or anytime in the future -- and that's okay. The streets are still narrow and walkable. And the buildings are just what you'd expect from the capital. The point here: ground floor retail can't and doesn't need to go everywhere.
Finally, let's return to Salt Lake City:
This is maybe the antithesis of our Paris example. 300 W is a wide street clearly designed for Toyota 4Runners. It's hard to imagine a lot of people walking around here. Even though it's relatively close to the central business district and it's on the edge of the emerging and very cool Granary District. (This is The Post District.) But you know what, retail seems to work just fine here:
You just need to think about it in the right way. SLC's wide streets and large blocks may not make for a broadly walkable environment. But they do give you the room to create your own internal street network and, of course, build a bunch of parking. And that's what was done and needed here.
I also find it interesting to think at this sub-block level and consider how it might become a new network and layer to the city over time. Maybe Salt Lake needs its own version of Barcelona's superblocks. And maybe this has already been considered.
So once again, ground floor retail is good. Everyone wants that cool coffee shop in the bottom of their building. But sometimes we miss the boat. Sometimes it's unclear what we should do. Sometimes it's not necessary or viable. And sometimes we get it just right. That's, I guess, retail.
If you find yourself on 300 W, check out Urban Sailor Coffee.
Site Plan: Post District
Over the weekend I went by the new North store on Ossington for the fitting of my new Focals by North glasses. According to Retail Insider, this is the first retail space in Canada that is entirely dedicated to wearable tech (shout-out to Hullmark and CBRE). Full disclosure: I am not being paid by North, but I was asked if I would accept a pair of Focals and provide my thoughts. So I will be doing that over the coming months on the blog.
Previously known as Thalmic Labs, North is a Waterloo-based company that first attracted attention with the launch of a gesture-control armband known as Myo. What that product did was make digital interactions completely hands-free. It had strong use cases across medicine, music, and business. However, this past October the company announced that it would be moving on from Myo. Enter Focals by North.
Focals are custom-built eyewear with an integrated display that only the wearer can see. It is similar to, for example, BMW’s heads up display, and the idea is that it is a way for you to quickly get the information you want, without pulling out your phone and disengaging from the world. The ambition is human-centric technology that integrates seamlessly.
Here is an example of what that display looks like (it is much better and cooler in person):
To control the display you use both your voice (the glasses have a microphone) and a 4-directional joystick called a Loop, which sits on your index finger like a ring and that you thumb. You can receive and send texts (voice to text), you can get turn-by-turn directions, you can view your appointments and the weather, and you can ask Alexa things.
The first step in the ordering process is a fitting. And that’s what I did over the weekend. The glasses are all custom made and so they start by doing a full 3D scan of your head in a room that feels like the future. Once that’s done, you pick what frame you want, the color, and your sun clips (an essential accessory for day drinking in Trinity Bellwoods). Total cost: CAD 1,299.
While exceptionally cool, it is premature for me to really comment on the tech at this point. I’m expecting my Focals in 8-10 weeks. But is it interesting to opine on the current state of eyewear tech.
Most people believe that the problem with Google Glass was the fact that you had to be a Silicon Valley nerd in order to want to wear them out in public. They looked and continue to look ridiculous, which is why Snap went fashion first with their Spectacles. I have always found this product really intriguing. I want to use it. But I’ve stopped using Snapchat entirely and I don’t really have a strong use case for them.
Snap’s Spectacles are about capture and content creation, whereas Focals are about discreetly feeding you information that you would otherwise have to pull out your phone (or watch) to view. There’s no camera on Focals. That’s not what they are about. But they are obviously fashion first.
The question for me is whether the experience will truly be seamless and integrated, or if I’ll still be disengaged – gazing off into my glasses (space) while I ask Alexa to UberEats me a chicken shawarma wrap. I’ll let you know in about 8-10 weeks. If you’re looking for more on Focals by North, check out their website and this CNBC piece. Go Canadian tech.
When I was working on my startup Dirt last year, one of the things we spent a bit of time figuring out was how to classify buildings according to neighborhood. Now, at first blush, this may seem like a fairly easy thing to do. You simply locate the building, figure out which neighborhood it’s in, and then tag it accordingly. But neighborhood boundaries and definitions aren’t as clear cut as you might think.
For example, a lot of you probably know that I live in the St. Lawrence Market neighborhood of Toronto. And indeed, if you look at this Wikipedia definition, I live in that area. But if you look at what they call it, it’s just: “St. Lawrence.” They also specify that it used to be called “St. Lawrence Ward”, but that today most people actually call it “the St. Lawrence Market.” So here you have an example of an evolving and changing name.
But then there’s the question of boundaries. According to Wikipedia’s definition, the north boundary is Front Street. This means that the North Market Building would be technically outside of the area and so would the Market Square condos. But I suspect that almost everyone would consider these two buildings to be part of the neighborhood. So where exactly is the north boundary? Is it King Street? Or maybe by Front Street they mean that all buildings on the north side of the street are included.
If you look at the city’s official neighborhood list (which is built from Statistics Canada Census Tracts) you’ll find a completely different boundary and name. According to this list, I live in the “Waterfront Communities–The Island” neighborhood. Obviously nobody, other than maybe somebody who deals with census data, would have any idea what this area is. But it’s how the city tracks its demographic data.
What this begins to show you is that neighborhood definitions and boundaries aren’t as black and white as they might initially seem. And it’s partially because cities themselves are always in flux. New neighborhoods emerge and old ones reinvent themselves. And as that happens, people start introducing new names and new terminologies.
When I was about 19 years old, people in Toronto used to say they were going out “on Richmond and Adelaide.” Since then, gentrification has pushed many of the bars and clubs out of that area. So people instead go out “on King West” or “on Ossington.” And as people begin to use those terms and identify with an area, new brands are created. Ask anybody who lives downtown and I bet they’ll tell you that King West has its own unique personality and even a type of person who typically lives there. This is an on the ground type of awareness though, which doesn’t get captured in census tracts.
The other reason neighborhood boundaries can be so fuzzy is because we – the real estate community – are constantly trying to manipulate them for our own benefit. I’m indifferent to the fact that this happens, but it is a reality. Think about how much the neighborhood of Yorkville has been stretched from its original roots north of Bloor Street. If a neighborhood has a good brand, agents and developers will naturally try and leverage it. Homeowners do it all the time too. Would you prefer to say that you live in Seaton Village or the Annex?
Ultimately, we (my Dirt cofounder and I) decided that neighborhood definitions and boundaries needed to be fluid. They needed to dynamically adjust with the market and come from as many people as possible on the ground. Because at the end of the day if the official documents say one thing, but the majority of city residents believe another, then that official boundary and definition are probably out of date. The crowd wins here.
We liked this approach because it was organic – just like cities.