The Faster Lane / Tyler Brûlé
Chic to shriek
It will come as little surprise that I’m not a fan of “trigger warnings” and “safe spaces”, particularly when the audience is over 18 and we’re talking about editorial comments, lectures and generally getting out of bed and into the big wide world. Are we particularly surprised that there’s been a spike in mental-health issues in many G7 nations when various forces have chosen to treat young adults like infants and shelter them from conflict, debate, different ideas and life in general? I didn’t think so. I could go on at length about the erosion of resilience in modern society, how young men and women no longer know how to organise themselves to do simple physical tasks such as stacking boxes or loading a delivery van, and how we’re properly stuffed should there ever be a need to pick up arms and actually fight for freedom. But we’ll save that for another Sunday.
What we urgently need to do is refocus all that energy devoted to content warnings and apply them to the places that are dangerous for our mental and physical wellbeing. Yes, I’m talking about those convulsions that overcome us when we walk into a cherished restaurant, hotel, shop or villa and find that someone with too much authority and funding has commissioned someone else, evidently in way over their head, to conduct a “sympathetic and thoughtful renovation” of a space that didn’t need much more than a fresh lick of paint and maybe a new ventilation system.
I have many “safe spaces” in the cities I frequent or call home (Shiseido Parlour and Tas Yard in Tokyo, the Captain’s Bar at the Mandarin Oriental in Hong Kong and Kronenhalle in Zürich). But in general all those cosy, well-worn dens and dining rooms are under threat because management feels pressure from their offspring to make these places seem more open and inclusive. This is actually shorthand for turning up the lights, offering a menu for a minority that’s engineered around countering all possible dietary dislikes (rather than what the majority might heartily enjoy) and ensuring that everyone is in an environment that is aesthetically dull and unchallenging – the polar opposite of my version of safe.
Off the back of my recent world tour, I was keen to see the much-anticipated renovation of the Globus Bellevue food hall in Zürich. The Globus Delicatessa is a culinary safe space for picking up whiskeys and wine, boxes of yuzu flown in from Japan, surprises for the dinner table and cakes for dessert. Its new Thai owner, Central Group, is famous for knowing how to run a grocery store or two; what could possibly go wrong?
With my basket at the ready to find all the ingredients for a welcome-home dinner, I ventured into the new space all set to snap pics and feel proud of this perked-up emporium throwing open its doors again. The people pouring in and out gave it a certain buzz but it only took a glance at the plastic plants hanging from the ceiling of the Italian dining outlet, the ugly metalwork to the left and the even uglier signage above the food stations to know that this wasn’t going to be a long visit. Escalators down to the actual grocery part of Globus had been moved from the back and placed at the centre of the store (an obsession among the management, it seems). But rather than making the shopping experience open and airy, the renovations have created a cramped atmosphere of jostling and traffic jams around the check-out. What was once a warmly lit and chic place to shop is now a bright racetrack with little in the way of charm and no design language to speak of. Rather, it felt like the basement had been shrunk. The wine shop that was once a woody cave is now out in the open and uninspiring, and there’s not one counter with prepared items to take home. Why? The Swiss disease of renovating for the fun of it rather than restoring or leaving well enough alone has struck again.
It took a visit to Paris earlier in the week to restore my spirits. But then, on my return to Zürich, I noticed the venerable Confiserie Sprügli on Paradeplatz has also had a debilitating facelift. These are the once safe spaces that need warnings before entering. “Dear customer, we hope you like our new appearance but there’s a good chance that you might be offended. Sorry to see you go.”