.Bye Bye Bezos

Ending a relationship is never easy, but in this case the reason was undeniable. Right there in black and white. Line after line after line (after line!) on my Visa statement.

It was time to break up with Amazon. No one said this was going to be easy. Amazon can be an addiction: the convenience, the returns, the anonymity.

But there must be a better way.

But who would I start seeing instead?

Rebound Retail

Wanting to keep things light, I fooled around a little with Facebook Marketplace. At first, that seemed to have decent potential. But it’s weird how quickly it starts to feel like a dating app. And not in a good way. Profiles matter. A lot. You need highly refined search terms to weed out the junk and even then, there’s a lot to scroll through. And trust me…very few were a “swipe right” situation. There were a lot of sketchy weirdos and shady too-good-to-be-true offers.

Over and over, the red flags kept coming, and I encountered things I knew were bots, or worse. I’d see someone who seemed great, get closer, reach out, make a connection, chat a little, get my hopes up. And then it would end either with me choosing to leave or getting dumped. (Did I mention the dating app vibes?) Plus, the ways you’re told to buy things safely (meet in public, bring a friend, protect yourself, use secure payment methods) felt less like I was buying pre-owned treasures at a bargain I could brag about and more like I was negotiating a hostage release.

There is an adage that says if you want to save money, you have to spend time. But the tradeoff between buying brand new on Amazon vs. getting something “gently loved” on Facebook Marketplace was so nominal it can turn out to be far easier to pay a tiny bit extra for the convenience, ease and peace of mind. I mean, I want to reduce, re-use and recycle as much as the next person, but still.

We both decided we needed our space, and it was over.

And then it dawned on me. This is the very reason behind the death of retail as we’ve come to know it.

It seems like every day we bemoan the demise of yet another retailer—most recently in downtown Santa Cruz we’ve lost O’Neill’s, Forever 21 and Rip Curl, among others—while we unbox yet another Amazon package. We decry the shuttered, papered-over commercial spaces downtown, while UPS and FedEx drivers race from one home to the next, barely able to keep up with the pace and demand for to-your-doorstep, next-day or even same-day deliveries.

Maybe it started or further accelerated with COVID, but either way it shows no sign of stopping or even slowing. If anything, it’s gotten worse. (Temu anyone?!) Regardless of the root cause, what we want to buy and, more importantly how we want to buy it, has forever changed.

Sad but true. Breaking up with Amazon wasn’t going to be easy.

But then I realized, maybe it’s not all or nothing. Perhaps we could have an open relationship. “See other people” as it were. After all, we are consenting adults.

And then an idea occurred to me. What if I didn’t just replace Amazon with more online shopping? Could I gently wean off my addiction to next day, home delivery and experience some new retail relationships “IRL?” Could I handle a digital detox of the shopping variety? What would that even look like? I knew one thing for certain…I’d have to shower, get dressed and leave the house—and not just in sweats and slippers to fetch a package from the mailbox.

It was time to start shop-dating locally!

Caring Culinary Curation

I’m not sure what it says about me that the first local shop I walked into is called “Another Banger,” but that’s how it worked out. Sandra Thi Martinelli, owner of the shop, is also the author of the cookbook Another Banger: 75+ Culinary Hits for the Home Chef’s Playlist. After finishing each of her recipes on YouTube, her catch phrase was “and there you have it, another banger!” The name stuck.

The shop is in Aptos, near where Café Sparrow used to be. It features a mix of specialty goods for home and kitchen, lovingly and personally curated by Martinelli, that reflects her passions, talents and eclectic interests. Expect things like the very tasty Supremo olive oil and handy garlic-grater dishes that she and her husband first found at Christmas markets in Spain and Portugal. The store also offers things like Bialetti Moka pots, anything-but-typical French presses (one is red and heart shaped), handmade woven shopping baskets (“to slay at the Farmer’s Market,” says Martinelli) along with “punny” cards, sweets, teas, glassware, hot sauce, cocktail/mocktail mixes and even jewelry from Martinelli’s namesake line.

But wait, how did I know the olive oil was tasty? Because when I first visited the store, Martinelli enthusiastically insisted on an impromptu tasting of several varieties for me and my friend. There’s a saying, “They don’t make ’em like they used to,” but Martinelli is breaking that mold. She brings an abundance of charm, wit, smarts and kindness that feels almost Old World…from an era where you could meet and talk directly with a shop’s owner, who lives right in your community, who energetically shares their story and you can feel their passion and energy. They care. Putting it all together, something incredible happens—you have an experience. And let me tell you—Amazon ain’t got nothin’ on that!

Martinelli puts it this way: “Small businesses bring culture and value to our local communities. In a world where we can pretty much have anything delivered to our doorsteps, I encourage folks to be intentional about convenience vs. supporting the community. There is certainly room for both, but local support is so important in ensuring our small businesses have the opportunity to survive and thrive.”

Supporting a local business comes in all shapes and sizes, according to Martinelli; “Whether you decide to purchase from the store, pop in to meet new shop owners, share your experience on social platforms—no matter how big or small, these moments of engagement can really help the growth of small businesses.”

What stood out to me most in my conversations with Martinelli was the notion of being intentional about how and where we shop and what we buy. In this “buy now with One-Click” and “one-button-to-buy with Apple Pay” world, it is so easy to end up buying robotically, reactively, impulsively, mindlessly…just by pressing a button. We insta-buy things we probably don’t need and may not have even wanted until seeing a promoted post on social media, most likely, and a bit ironically, also created by some form of mindless AI machine, algorithm or bot.

But I was now well on my way to realizing that was not the consumer I wanted to be, personally or financially. My Visa bill would be pleased.

The next attractive local shop that caught my eye was Bottega del Lago, at the corner of 17th Avenue and Portola Drive in Live Oak. One part deli, one part Italian foodie heaven, the store is a delight for the eyes and the belly. Because one thing I quickly realized about shopping locally: It makes me hungry…and thirsty. Additionally, now that I live by the beach, there is suddenly a steady stream of friends and family who want to visit, so I like to have inviting, distinctive snacks and drinks on hand at a moment’s notice. Bottega del Lago had me swooning on all fronts. While I waited just a few minutes for a delicious Savoia focaccia sandwich with brie cheese, salami and arugula (served warm upon request) and a refreshing Galvanina organic red grapefruit sparkling Italian soda, I was almost magically transported back to the romance of Italy.

From the stylish décor with cheeky Italian wallpaper to the beautiful shelves and colorful displays brimming with everything from house-made pesto, charcuterie and olives to eucalyptus honey, lemon biscotti and candied sour black cherries in syrup, the shop is a feast. There are dips with pesto, bruschetta and wild fennel and a pistachio spread with Sicilian extra virgin olive oil…perfect for dipping with the pesto chips I found. Forget the houseguests, this was a haul I couldn’t wait to eat myself!

But the thing that truly surprised me was what happened when my sandwich and soda were ready. I didn’t jump in my car and scarf down the meal while driving (or sitting in traffic) like I normally would. I found a café table outside, in the warm sun, sat down, alone, and slowly and fully enjoyed my meal. And like all great dates, I wasn’t on my phone the whole time. You would need many more diners all gesturing and talking loudly at once, far fewer SUVs and a few dozen more buzzing scooters to fully replicate an outdoor café dining experience in Italy…but it was close. And it felt great. I fell even more deeply in love with our beautiful town. Plus, I came home satiated and with a big ol’ bag of goodies I knew would excite my future guests…whom I will also be bringing back to Bottega del Lago for gelato, which I was too full to enjoy the first time.

Rooted in IRL Shopping

Shop-dating locally was proving extremely satisfying on numerous levels. My senses were all turned on. I was meeting new people and having great experiences. I was moving slowly, with intention. What’s more it came with a strong dose of “do-gooder-ness” because I was supporting the local economy. My morale soared. At this point, like in all the best rebound relationships, I wasn’t thinking about the “other guy” (aka Amazon) at all anymore.

But unfortunately, day in, day out shopping isn’t about exotic olive oils, European kitchen gadgets or hard-to-pronounce jars of Italian deliciousness. Sometimes it’s about houseplants. Which I have a terrible penchant for killing. With alarming speed. Which is how I ended up at Dig Gardens talking to Joy about how to stop hurting my newly purchased plant.

She took one look at the plant in question (after advising me next time to bring a picture, not the actual plant—noted) and sized up the situation in about 30 seconds. “Too much water. WAY too much humidity. Either move the plant or find a plant that likes that location.” I chose the latter and she swiftly guided me to a few plant critters that would like the climate I had in mind. In no time at all, I already trusted Joy fully and let her pick out a good one for me. I also needed a couple (heavy) bags of potting soil for another project, which an employee carted directly to and hoisted inside my vehicle in about 5 minutes…without me even asking for help, which to my mind is the definition of great service. They spoke my love language.

As I drove home, hopeful that me and my new plant friend were destined for a long-term healthy relationship, I tried to imagine what that whole experience would have felt like at Home Depot. Who knows? Maybe I would have gotten lucky. (Yes I’m an optimist and, hey, stop laughing.) But more likely I would have found myself lost in the cavernous aisles, wandering, hungry, alone, aimlessly, trying not to be run over by pushcarts full of lumber. The words inconsiderate and ignored come to mind and I don’t even need a couples therapist to tell me that isn’t good. I suppose there’s someone for everyone when it comes to this particular type of shopping, but let’s just say you’ll find me at Dig Gardens (either of their two locations) or my small, local, independently owned hardware store.

The New Retail Therapy

In most communities, a thriving local economy relies on a vibrant downtown shopping district and Santa Cruz is no different. There’s been a lot of tea spilled lately about the situation in downtown Santa Cruz, so I decided to get the facts straight for myself.

I was surprised and delighted to learn from Jorian Wilkins, executive director for the Downtown Association of Santa Cruz, that 85% of downtown businesses are locally owned. And several, such as Bookshop Santa Cruz, Pacific Trading Co., Lenz Arts and Dell Williams jewelers, have been owned and operated by Santa Cruz families for generations.

Wilkins suggests that one of the reasons these businesses are so successful at the hyper-local shopping game is their ability to curate. “The internet is filled with endless, bottomless choices, and that can be great. But local shop owners do a beautiful job of curating just for you the things they know you will like. They create a great experience.”

I saw this personal curation come to life at the stunning Botanic and Luxe on Abbott Square Market when I visited on a rainy Valentine’s Day. A fellow walked into the store and was quickly greeted by his first name by one of the shop’s co-owners, Leilani Zehnder. The bewildered look on his face said it all. This was a guy feeling the pressure to find just the right gift for his girlfriend.

Zehnder sprang into action. She all but took him by the hand, guiding him through the displays, asking interested, easygoing questions along the way to focus, expedite and guide the choices. The store’s brand signatures are “earthy, luxurious goods” and “a lifestyle destination for dreamers, lovers and seekers of all things beautiful.” And while I absolutely relished the idea of losing myself in the exploration and discovery, you could tell this guy was a man on a mission.

Sure, yeah, it’s an eye-candy environment with soaring windows, towering live plants, colorful ceramic pots and an enticing selection of candles, skincare, glassware, books, jewelry, incense and other luscious tidbits. But this was a shopper who wanted to get ’er done. Zehnder made it happen with ease and charm. She gently inquired, presented various options, gathered feedback, further refined the choices, and he left in a jiffy with a lovingly wrapped gift for his sweetheart. You just KNEW he was going to score points (or more). And by the utterly transformed look on his face, you could tell he knew it too.

“This is the new retail therapy,” said Ariel Stirm, Zehnder’s business partner and co-owner. “It’s a human, touching, talking, interactive experience. No algorithm can ever do that. But still, every day as owners we have to strive to not just be as good as AI— we have to be better. It’s sad that some may say no one really needs to go into a store anymore. But let’s rethink what we need. Let’s create a friendly, nice, warm, inviting space. Where the retailers are thinking about community, not just competition. Where shoppers are taking the time to buy something that has true meaning. Let’s make that a new love language.”

The owners of Botanic and Luxe diligently vet all the products they offer. If it’s skincare, they put it on their own faces first. If it’s a scent, they sniff-test while studying the ingredients. If it’s a hand-crafted fudge, they taste it. (I know, right? Hard work, but hey, someone has to do it.) An important part of the product vetting process is evaluating the suppliers. They are deliberate and intentional about that examination as well, opting for small, local and diversely owned businesses whenever possible. It may sound clichéd, but it’s the kind of care you can feel.

It strikes me that these retailers are all seeking to redefine AI. They see it as Authentic Interaction. Still highly intelligent, but there’s nothing artificial about it.

The One-Book Pledge

Another downtown shop that embodies this ethos is Bookshop Santa Cruz. Owner Casey Coonerty Protti took it so far that she created buttons for each of her booksellers that say, “I Am Not an Algorithm.”

Protti puts it this way, “When you shop online, you don’t get the experience of discovery. You don’t get the creativity. You don’t talk to people. You don’t forge relationships. You don’t see the vibrancy on the street. There are so many things you get to see when you shop locally, besides the positive feeling you get knowing you’re contributing to the local economy.”

Case in point for the experience of discovery: at Bookshop they have a huge wall with all the new books. Rather than take all the history books and put them in the history section or put the biographies only in that section, they put all the new books out together. “What we said is, a customer might walk in thinking they are a history buff or only read non-fiction, but then something completely different catches their eye. And suddenly you’re reading something new or outside of your comfort zone. You’ve launched into a whole another area of interest that you never knew. Discovery like that doesn’t happen with an algorithm.”

The other critical element to all this is the high-touch, human interaction. At every store I visited, there is this pulsing passion for the products. The owners and staff have heart, soul and a sense of purpose. And they want to talk about it, to describe the experience, to share the feeling. As Protti says, “it’s this special, personalized conversation that you could never get from a machine.”

In this world today, it’s often hard to see how we can make a difference. How each of us as individuals can affect real, meaningful change.

Bookshop’s Protti has a suggestion: “Make a list of five businesses you value in Santa Cruz. Places that bring you joy, where you love the service they provide, that support our community. Then commit to not shopping for those products on Amazon. Sometimes we are so shocked, like ‘I can’t believe that store is closing.’ But then you have to ask yourself…when was the last time you shopped there?”

And like in real-life break-ups, sometimes the process is incremental. Protti has another idea to share. “We call it the one-book pledge. It can be hard to form new habits, but can you buy one additional book at a local bookstore?” You might wonder if such a small choice matters, but Protti emphasizes that “just one additional book allows me to employ several more people in Santa Cruz, but it means absolutely nothing to Amazon. So take that small step.”

If nothing else, strive for less and less Amazon shopping every day. Seek to make more mindful, intentional choices about your needs and balance that with what our community, our small business owners, the environment and a thriving local economy truly do need.

Or maybe you always shop at Safeway or Whole Foods. That’s fine, but have you tried Shopper’s Corner? A locally run grocery store that’s operated in Santa Cruz since 1937, the place is from locals, for locals. Great meat and fish, knowledgeable butchers, fresh produce, kind staff and one of the best wine selections around. And with that one simple, easy choice, you’ve gone from global to local. Better still, you’ve supported Andre Beauregard whose family has owned and operated Shopper’s Corner since its inception. You’ve supported Andre’s family, his kids, the store’s employees and their local suppliers. And all their families and kids. Just like that, with almost no effort, you’ve had a positive impact on your community, not to mention the environment.

Give it a shot! It feels really good. Who knows? You might just find true love.

READ ON! Next, our story’s author Joan Hammel in conversation with Casey Protti, owner of Bookshop Santa Cruz, about ‘ghosting’ Amazon.