
💛 If you run a business in NEO, this is for you
🗝️ A peek inside Cleveland’s golden-age department stores
🛷 Check out this list of the best things to do in NEO in the winter

Before shopping became something you did while mildly stressed and holding a coffee you didn’t actually want, it was something you dressed for.
Not “threw on leggings and hoped for the best” dressed for.
I mean dressed. Hats. Gloves. Structured coats. Shoes that clicked when you walked. The kind of outfit that made you stand a little straighter just because you were wearing it.
Going downtown wasn’t a chore. It was the plan.
Once upon a time, shopping in Cleveland was an event. And not in a loud, buzzy, way - but in a slow, elegant, take-your-time way. A way that suggested there was no rush because why on earth would there be?

You stepped inside places like Higbee’s or Halle’s or Taylor’s and the city noise softened instantly. The floors gleamed. The lighting was warm. The air smelled faintly of perfume and polished wood and whatever magic lives inside glass display cases.
You could hear heels on marble. You could hear elevators gliding. No screens screaming at you. Just the gentle hum of people existing politely in the same beautiful space.
Higbee’s, especially, understood drama. Holiday window displays weren’t just decorations - they were productions. People didn’t scroll past them. They went downtown to see them. Families lingered. Adults leaned in close to the glass. Children pressed their hands against it. Nobody said, “Okay, we’ve got five minutes before the next thing.” The window was the thing.
Inside, departments felt like worlds. You didn’t speed-walk through them. You wandered. You touched fabrics. You admired things you had no intention of buying. And somehow that was allowed.
Halle’s had this quiet confidence that Cleveland deserved refinement. Not in a snobby way - more in a “we know who we are” way. It was elegant without being stiff. Aspirational without being intimidating. You went there not just to shop, but to feel a little more put-together just by being there. Honestly? A public service.
Taylor’s leaned into service in a way that feels almost fictional now. Salespeople knew their departments. Elevators had attendants. Asking questions wasn’t an inconvenience - it was expected. You weren’t rushed along like an obstacle between someone and their commission. You were part of the experience.
And here’s the thing I keep coming back to, every time I think about these places:
None of this was optimized.
It took effort. You had to go downtown. You had to walk. You had to engage with other humans (terrifying, I know). You had to spend time. And yet… people loved it. Because the friction was the luxury. The slowness was the point.
Somewhere along the way, we decided that faster was better. That convenience was king. That everything should be streamlined, sanitized, and stripped of anything that might slow us down or ask us to linger.
And listen - I love curbside pickup as much as the next person. I am not here to shame anyone for wanting their toothpaste in under four minutes. But I do think we quietly lost something when we turned every experience into a transaction to get through as efficiently as possible.
Because humans? We don’t actually crave speed. We crave depth.
It’s the same reason people lose their minds over Downton Abbey and Bridgerton. The lushness. The ritual. The sense that time stretches. The idea that life can be savored instead of hacked. No one watches those shows and thinks, “Wow, this could really benefit from a self-checkout kiosk.”
We miss beauty. We miss ceremony. We miss being somewhere that feels intentional - somewhere that invites us to slow down and look around and feel like this moment is worth inhabiting.
And you can see it when people talk about the places they love now. They don’t rave about efficiency. They rave about how a place feels. How it welcomed them. How it surprised them. How it made them want to stay a little longer than planned.
That instinct isn’t outdated. It’s timeless.
Ohio has always known how to do this. We’ve built spaces that weren’t just functional, but memorable. Places that didn’t rush people through, but invited them in. Places that understood that delight is not frivolous - it’s human.
Honestly, it’s kind of comforting to remember.
Because it means that creating something beautiful, intentional, and a little unrushed isn’t a lost art. It’s a muscle we already have. One we can choose to use again - whether we’re building businesses, communities, or just a really good afternoon downtown.
And if nothing else, it’s nice to sit here together for a minute and remember what it felt like when shopping came with sparkle, perfume, and permission to take your time.
Sometimes sunshine looks like that. 🌞
Want more delicious historic visuals? Check out this cool History of the Department Store presentation - the images are beautiful and I really enjoyed it!

Okay, quick shift in vibes (but stay with me)
This part is for anyone building something in The Land.
If you own a business in Cleveland (or NEO) and have ever thought:
“I cannot post one more thing on Instagram and pretend this is fine,” or
“I know my business is good but I’m not sure people feel it,” or
“How do I stay relevant without selling my soul to ads and algorithms?”
✨ Hi. This is for you. ✨
On Friday, January 32rd, Jim Kukral of The Cleveland Floaters & Let’s Go CLE is hosting a Cleveland Marketing Summit at Forest City Brewing - and it’s all about creating memorable moments for your customers. Not buzzwords. Not funnels. Not ‘growth hacks.’ Actual human experiences that make people obsessed with your business in the best possible way.
Here’s why I’m involved:
I’m speaking
I’m sponsoring the snack table (yes, it will be excellent — think Skittles, popcorn, joy)
And I wouldn’t put my name on this if it weren’t genuinely good
There are already 55+ local Cleveland business owners attending (including some very recognizable brands), and there are fewer than 50 tickets left.
This is not a soulless marketing seminar.
This is not a room full of laptops and LinkedIn bros.
This is a room full of smart, tired, thoughtful business owners who want their work to matter - and to be remembered.
If that sounds like you, I’d love to see you there.
👉 Details & tickets are here:
If not? No pressure. Please enjoy the history, the sunshine, and the mental image of department store perfume counters and dramatic holiday windows. That part’s for everyone. ☀️

Much Love,

P.S. This super fun list of the best winter stuff to do in Northeast Ohio is full of gold nuggets for the whole family to enjoy. You’ll love it, especially if you like bundling up for a snowy adventure from time to time. ⛷️

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