Shop windows tell much about what’s happening to a store.

Every window tells a story, or at least it should. There can be few better examples of this than the National Geographic store on Regent Street at the moment. The street itself is filled with overhead images of Aslan (yes, the mystic lion from the Narnia books) as the powers that be seek to capitalize on the anticipated fever that will accompany the release of the 3D blockbuster in early December.
All well and good and if proto-Christian kid’s stories are your thing, then this may warm the cockles. But then wander down the street and pause in front of National Geographic. There’s the self-same Aslan in one of the windows, which has been converted into a digital screen to advertise the forthcoming event. Again, nothing too much to pick holes about until you recall what National Geographic windows have looked like in the recent past.
Perhaps the most gob-smacking were the three driftwood sculptures that had been fashioned into life-size horses - not only did they look fantastic, but they seemed to strike a chord with what one imagines the National Geographic brand might be about - you know, beaches, far-flung places, the mysterious and suchlike.
What therefore, other than a substantial amount of money presumably changing hands, has an image of a languid lion got to do with a travel brand? The message that might, if you were of a cynical bent, be conveyed, is that if you can’t get sales moving in the right direction, then take the marketing man’s shilling. As usual on a Thursday evening, the excellent café-restaurant that forms part of National Geographic was humming - the rest of the shop was not.
And bear this in mind. Not only are there under four weeks to Christmas, not only was Aslan staring out at passersby, but at the far end of the shop the gallery area was lit up and was empty and there were scaffolding poles on the floor. What is the inference that should be drawn from all of this?
Again, if you were of a suspicious frame of mind, you might be inclined to believe that all is not right in the kingdom of the yellow-framed magazine’s sole UK retail outpost. This is, of course, just a report of what was on view. Gentle reader you may have your own views about what this series of connected events might signify.
One thing is certain: there are better windows along Regent Street.

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