Her fashion role model is Georgia O’Keeffe. And the store Tiina Laakkonen operated for more than ten years from a house on Route 27 in Amagansett, N.Y., seems like the kind of place where you could imagine the legendary artist enhancing her chic yet austere wardrobe — that is, if Georgia O’Keeffe had been dressed by the Row.
The store, known as Tiina the Store, offered a well-curated selection of minimalist, often extravagantly expensive, designs for both men and women — brands like Toogood, Arts & Science, Arpenteur, and Dosa; established labels like Bergfabel, Elgin of Scotland, and Wommelsdorff; or independent designers like the cult Italian designer Daniela Gregis. What it also provided was a respite from the influx of luxury goods that have dominated retail in the renowned East End of Long Island.
In September, Tiina the Store will be shutting down. As 59-year-old Ms. Laakkonen, a former model, stylist (including for The New York Times), and talented merchant, began to pack up and reduce prices by 50 percent, she sat down for the following edited interview.
Why close a successful business?
There are a few reasons. When I first started, I thought, “I’m going to have a cute little store, sell a few of my favorite things, it’ll be nice.” But as the business grew and grew, it became all-consuming. It took over my life, for better or worse. There was no way to slow down.
And why is that a problem?
Look, it’s a great problem to have. But my life tends to follow these ten-year cycles, whether in fashion or other creative jobs. After ten years — well, it’s actually a little over eleven — I felt like I wanted to start fresh.
What does starting fresh mean in this context?
In terms of my creative cycle — or whatever you want to call it — the only way was to close this version of the store and take a break. I needed to create a space where I could figure out what the next step would be.
That’s a bit mysterious.
I know it sounds crazy, but I’d like to do something either much smaller or much bigger — a more highly curated, more finely edited version or a department-store level Tiina the Store.
No temptation to go into fashion editorial?
That world as I knew it no longer exists. What we created here in retail resonated with a certain type of customer, and I want to use that understanding. My customers always complained about the lack of shopping options.
Can you explain that to someone who has never been to East Hampton, a place that, as the decorator and lifelong local Tom Scheerer recently said, once had “dingy, creaky-floored haberdasheries, a five-and-dime store, and Dreesen’s, the butcher,” but now resembles the luxury goods of the Dubai Duty Free mall?
The aspirational retail world is now dominated by big luxury brands. That’s what they’ve done in East Hampton. But my customers are no longer aspirational. They don’t want logos or any of that. They’re done.
Who are we talking about?
My husband’s family has had a house out here for over 60 years. The Hamptons, even just ten years ago, was a different place. When we decided to open, I didn’t know any of the people on Further Lane.
Further Lane being the Park Place of Monopoly, but with hedges.
I had no idea who those people were or how they dressed. But then people started showing up, and pretty soon I realized, “Oh, this person is a billionaire, this person is a billionaire, and oh, this person is also a billionaire.”
And what have you learned as a retail anthropologist?
For one thing, these people are unbelievably wealthy. They have huge houses with a huge staff, and that $50 million house might just be one of many. They move around from New York to L.A. to Aspen to St. Barts — always wherever life is best. But what’s great about the Hamptons is that you can’t really tell who’s really rich. We have guys come in wearing casual shorts and T-shirts, and then you look them up later and find out, “Well, okay, he’s worth $3.7 billion.”
There’s rich and then there’s rich.
The ultra-rich are the ones who have to land their super-big planes in Westhampton because if you have a real plane, you don’t land it in East Hampton.
Why not?
The runway is too short.
That’s a concept average people might find hard to grasp.
I’ve dealt a lot with, I guess you could call it, celebrity and money and fame, but it’s not my world at all. What I’ve discovered is that those people are tired of shopping in stores that act like fashion dictatorships.
Are we heading into “quiet luxury” territory here?
Many of these people have incredible style, but they don’t want Hermès or Louis Vuitton. In general, retail has lost that sense of curation and unique perspective. You can find the same merchandise anywhere in any big city or online. That’s not appealing to customers who can afford anything. At a certain point, it’s just stuff to them.
Clearly they still want stuff, otherwise you wouldn’t have stayed in business.
A store like mine appealed because people could discover labels they’d never heard of or seen before. It’s a different concept of luxury. My taste isn’t for everyone, but if you wanted beautiful items sourced from all over the world, this was the store for you.
Or, rather, it was.
Well, the building is up for sale, and the store will be closing in September. But I’ll be back in some form. I’m not emotionally attached to Tiina the Store. Ultimately, the decision to close is that rather than making small adjustments, it’s easier to close up shop. Move on. Close that chapter.
Tiina: the Store Is Closing
