For the month of August, we’ll spend our Wednesdays discussing independently-owned businesses around St. Louis, specifically ones that we’ve not been to before. Today’s is the first edition. Check back weekly.
Let’s get a moment of embarrassing confession out of the way early: Despite the fact that I love used books, I’d never been to The Archive (2903 South Jefferson, 314-827-5491) before yesterday. This despite the fact that the business is located just a few minutes away from my Southside flop. There’s really no good reason for why this oversight happened (and then persisted), but buying five books yesterday was a needed step in rectifying the situation.
The Archive’s got a trio of owners: Amber Dover, Tom Freeman, and Steven Hoffmann. From November 2009 until April 2012, the business occupied a space on western Cherokee Street, in a building owned by two active neighborhood residents, Galen Gondolfi and David Early. But earlier this year, the pair sold the building to a baker, while The Archive packed up their 100,000 books and rolled a few blocks north to the corner of Jefferson and Pestalozzi.
In one of the those interesting stories about the changing nature of urban spaces, The Archive moved into an impressive corner building owned by Jason Deem, who had converted it as a projected “art bar” called Mayer’s Bakery Bar, its name reflecting the former life of the building. In an unplanned, roundabout way, a bookstore moved into a rehabbed bakery (intended for a bar), while a bakery’s moving into a former bookstore (one that enjoyed previous lives selling art supplies and, well before that, car parts). Talk about the ever-fluid nature of urban life, in fully-formed action.
“I love the architectural details that are still in this room,” Dover says, eyeballing the space from the front foyer. “This had been a bakery since the beginning. And this would’ve been the only room that the public would’ve been in. I enjoy the frieze, the shelving, the art deco windows... this room, itself, has a lot of life.”
The bookstore uses most of the space that’s afforded it by the build-out, including the books liberally displayed throughout the kitchen; the basement, still in a state of transition, also contains some of The Archive’s stock. Altogether the rooms have a unique feeling, as if you’re walking through a house owned by a particularly obsessive collector of the written word. Each room’s a little different and the overall effect is quite wonderful; it’s easy to see how you can drift through the business for a good hour or two.
Their small office, in the rear of the space, includes holdings that are destined for online sales, via Abe Books. Dover says they have about a 1,000 titles listed there, which do sell.
“That’s been going very well,” she says, noting that high-end and collectible titles move strongly in that environment. “We’re able to reach a larger audience selling the rare, valuable titles that people aren’t going to walk off the street to buy. At one point, we even considered moving into a warehouse but felt it was important to have a storefront and to remain a part of the community through that.”
Dover figures about 30 people are among the consistent “regular” crowd, some visiting weekly. She laughs when she says “they don’t always buy something, but they do come in,” a refrain known by arts/culture retailers everywhere. Asked to describe her clientele, she’s got a ready, intriguing answer.
“I think the people who frequent used book stores are out to look for adventures, maybe,” she says. “It’s different than shopping in a new bookstore. There, they can tell you exactly where to go and what to look for, whereas here, sometimes I’ll know that we have something. Other times, I’ll just point people in a general direction. They tend to be bibliophiles. They love books. Hopefully, these aren’t gross generalizations.”
The Archive’s little pocket of South St. Louis contains everything from breathtaking rehabs to heart-breaking shells. But there’s been an interesting momentum along Jefferson in just the last couple years, spreading from Gravois on the north to Cherokee on the south. The Archive’s arrival obviously only adds to that positivity. In some respects, Dover’s hesitation in leaving the already-established scene of Cherokee was due to the fact that she could literally walk down an alley to her business, whereas it now takes her a couple of extra minutes to get to work.
But she doesn’t feel as if Cherokee’s own momentum needs to be limited to, well, Cherokee.
“Cherokee’s energy needs to keep spreading,” she says. “I like to think that it’s not sequestered to just that street.”
And if a few more dawdlers finally get off the stick and visit the shop, even better. Message received.
Back soon, Archive, I promise.
