When Whole Foods was established in Austin, Texas, in 1980, it was 'counter-culture' to its core. The original crew of yoga-practising, sandal-wearing staff offered local vegetables and whole grains to a like-minded group of urban hippies.
By last year, Whole Foods had sales of $5.6bn and profits of $200m, landing it in the top tier of American supermarkets. The opening of its gargantuan, new London store today on the site of the old Barkers department store is the biggest step yet in its planned march across the world.
The triumph of Whole Foods is a triumph for the lifestyle it represents: eco-conscious, yoga-stretched, tech-savvy, slightly self-righteous. A trip down its gleaming aisles allows urban consumers to feel they are doing the right thing without imposing the slightest
|
 |
|
 |
| |
sacrifice. Healthy living no longer means staring into a desolate bowl of oats. It means sushi, salad bars, organic chocolate chip cookies!
Even better, the Whole Foods fruit stand is a much-needed improvement on the freezer section as a place to exchange provocative glances.
The genius of Whole Foods was to recognise that shoppers looking for better produce were not just interested in the product. They also wanted their choice validated by a seductive shopping experience. They not only wanted to do the right thing, they wanted to feel they were doing the right thing.
Whole Foods' elaborately styled stores and ingratiating staff offer that in spades. You go in for a piece of organic beef and, before you know it, you are having such a good time that you have bought milk, eggs and biscuits that are easily found - 
|
