Opinion | Remember Hong Kong’s floorwalkers – men with a certain bearing paid to walk
From Hong Kong’s mid-19th century urban beginnings until quite recently, major department stores such as Lane Crawford and Whiteaway, Laidlaw & Co employed a dedicated European managerial staff member, colloquially known as a floorwalker, to circulate on their floors throughout the day.
Mostly vanished from the modern retail world, floorwalkers were once ubiquitous, found in every sizeable establishment with pretensions to quality, everywhere from Manchester and Milwaukee, to Melbourne and Montreal.
Positions were often filled by former military men (mostly senior non-commissioned officers) who had chosen to retire in Hong Kong. Usually in their mid-to-late 50s, they had had service careers that bequeathed a competent, “in charge” demeanour that inspired immediate confidence. Floorwalker jobs – like those of theatre or cinema doormen in Britain – were physically undemanding roles that could be filled for another decade or so before the men retired fully.
As the job title suggests, a floorwalker’s function was to “walk the floors” in an authoritative but not overbearing manner, keeping a weather eye on customers, staff and the general surroundings. As well as being approachable and courteous, and firm when required, their ability to “know what they didn’t know”, then make appropriate inquiries, was a valuable skill. But perhaps their most important role was to discreetly yet shrewdly size up patrons as they came through the store, ask what they were seeking should they look undecided, then offer assistance. In time, the best became highly respected parts of their establishment’s profile.
While not explicitly store detectives, floorwalkers were streetwise and could instinctively sniff out untoward behaviour. In instances where some small object had been “accidentally” slipped into an overcoat pocket or handbag, a sudden appearance by the floorwalker, with a polite-but-pointed inquiry about whether any particular help was required, usually had the desired chastening effect: items were either quietly returned to the shelves or paid for on the way out.
Floorwalkers sometimes left more lasting impressions on customers, long after both the men, and the businesses for which they worked, had vanished from the scene.
One Portuguese friend recently recalled her experience of a floorwalker at Whiteaway, Laidlaw & Co’s Kowloon branch in the mid-1960s.
The eldest of several children, she and her siblings had pooled their piggy banks’ resources and headed into town to buy their mother a birthday present. The family was well known in the store: the mother, an enthusiastic gardener, always bought flower seeds from Whiteaway’s.
After a lengthy discussion, the children settled on a costume jewellery pearl necklace as their gift. My friend, then 12, approached the “ex-military-looking” floorwalker to check the price and was told it was HK$14.50. The children’s savings amounted to HK$13.50. Undaunted and firmly motivated by the principle that “if you don’t ask, you don’t get” she inquired if a discount were possible.
The man looked at her briefly and guessed why (and for whom) these children were out shopping together, then said, yes, a discount would be available. When they went to pay, the floorwalker tactfully produced a dollar from his own pocket to make up the difference. My friend politely pretended not to notice but, to this day, she has “never, ever forgotten the kindness behind that gesture”.
Read More: Opinion | Remember Hong Kong’s floorwalkers – men with a certain bearing paid to walk
2024-07-22 00:45:08