Marshall Field's and the Circle of Life

The iconic Chicago department store effectively reflected the stages of my life.

Marshall Field & Company, known as Marshall Field’s, was founded in 1881 in Chicago, although its retailing roots date back to the 1850’s. Its flagship store, located at State and Washington Streets in the Loop, was a touchstone for Chicagoans for many years, until, after a series of ownership changes, it was rebranded as Macy’s, in 2006. As a native Chicagoan, I share the pain caused by this transaction; I felt a similar twinge when the home of one of my former newspaper publishing employers at 401 North Wabash Avenue, in Chicago (Chicago Sun-Times) was demolished, in order to enable the building of a fucking Trump Tower on its site. . .in Chicago - truly “the (most) unkindest cut of all.”

Throughout my thirty six and a half years living in the Chicago area (mostly in the North Shore suburbs), Marshall Field’s was a constant, marking significant milestones in my life.

I cannot personally verify this, but given that my parents were living in La Grange Park, a western suburb of Chicago, in 1960, when I was born, I firmly believe that I had to have received at least one gift purchased from Marshall Field’s, upon the occasion of my birth - perhaps a “onesie,” or a “two-piece outfit with a red short-sleeve shirt and yellow cord shorts,” or maybe even a baby rattle. Sure, there were other baby clothing and accessories stores around at the time, but, Marshall Field’s was definitely in the rotation. Thus began the synching of my life with Marshall Field’s.

As I grew into a rambunctious youngster, with three siblings, an annual pilgrimage was made to the State Street Marshall Field’s store each December to: view the display windows decorated with North Pole scenes, or some other such seasonal delights; visit with Santa Claus, in order to relate to him the details of my Christmas wish list; and, to dine afterwards in the elegant Walnut Room, on the seventh floor. Truly a magical experience, repeated year after year. Now, it’s true that Carson Pirie Scott, just down the street, also decorated its windows with Christmas scenes, but true Chicagoans knew that the Marshall Field’s windows were the real deal. And, having seen A Christmas Story countless times by now, I’m quite familiar with the Santa in that department store kicking poor Ralphie down the slide, with the admonition that, “You’ll shoot your eye out, kid.” I don’t recall that ever happening at Marshall Field’s; that must have been a Cleveland thing. And finally, the Walnut Room was in a class by itself, when it came to family Christmas outings.

In the years that followed, toys, clothes and books were likely secured at Marshall Field’s. Now, I’m not sure if Marshall Field’s was involved in the purchase of the bright-blue leisure suit in 1976, but, even if it was, that is but one minor blemish on an otherwise spotless record.

Other significant life events included: high school proms and, eventually, graduation. Marshall Field’s ceded the responsibility for renting tuxedos (including a baby-blue number which provided a nice counterpoint to the bright-blue leisure suit) to the local tuxedo rental businesses; even though these were significant milestones in my life, Marshall Field’s properly recognized that tuxedo rentals were transient transactions, and did not belong amidst the more permanent mementos in which they trafficked.

My college years were spent mostly away from Chicago, but Marshall Field’s remained a beacon at Christmastime, much like the “star in the east” (Too much? Yeah, I agree - that one was a little over the top - my apologies).

As I entered the professional world, Marshall Field’s once again stepped up with its Men’s Store offerings, although, truth be told, their suits were pretty pricey, and I don’t recall them ever offering a “buy one, get two free” offer (thanks for that, Joseph A. Bank). I could afford an occasional necktie there, which I no longer require, as documented in a Rule of Three column from last year. . .

Now when it became time to get married, my wife (a Chicago-area gal) and I naturally established a wedding registry at Marshall Field’s, where we selected a china pattern and a silver pattern. This step resulted not only in checking the box for connecting with Marshall Field’s in conjunction with another important step along life’s journey, but also played an important role in our financial management development, inasmuch as we fell short of securing the full complement of silverware and china pieces received via gifts from wedding attendees, and felt it necessary to purchase the remaining pieces on our own, charging this cost to a Marshall Field’s Wedding Gift Shortfall Credit Card Account (I’m making up the name for this account, because I simply don’t remember what it was called, but I distinctly remember that it was an account separate from our regular Marshall Field’s Credit Card account, you know, the one with which we could purchase baby gifts, and that doesn’t include the third Marshall Field’s Credit Card Account, which was intended to capture purchases of furniture, as we furnished our new home - that’s right, three monthly payments to Marshall Field’s! If that’s not a clear lifecycle connection point, I cannot imagine another clearer example). Also, I’m not likely to make the “Wedding Gift Shortfall” mistake again; I’ll simply invite more people to my next wedding - problem solved.

Marshall Field’s continued to make appearances in my life, particularly at Christmastime. It was a good place to shop for perfume and jewelry for my wife. And, I recall one shopping trip, in which I and a colleague, whom I will call Bob (because that is his name), each of us charged with purchasing bathrobes for our wives for Christmas, traveled to the State Street store at lunchtime to secure the goods at Marshall Field’s. We then stopped off at the popular take-out sandwich spot located on the seventh floor, which provided massive deli sandwiches. My memory suggests that the “restaurant” consisted of a three foot by three foot opening in a wall, which opened into the kitchen, likely also servicing the swells dining in the Walnut Room, with three or four bistro tables clustered in the small space in front of the wall opening - like I said, take-out sandwich spot. During my years working in the Loop, I visited that spot many times, a short walk from my office, often stopping off at a Mrs. Field’s Cookie store (remember those?) for a warm chocolate chip cookie fresh from the oven on the way back.

We also introduced our kids to the Marshall Field’s Chrismastime trip to: view the display windows decorated with North Pole scenes, or some other such seasonal delights; and to visit with Santa Claus, in order to relate to him the details of their Christmas wish lists. I don’t remember if we dialed-in the Walnut Room to those trips - my children were not nearly as well-behaved as me and my siblings (Ha!).

Then I left Chicago, and several years later Marshall Field’s’s lamp was extinguished (Oh, come on, that one’s not nearly as heavy-handed as the “star in the east”).

As I ultimately transition into the next phases of my life, I’m not sure that Marshall Field’s would have been equipped to satisfy my needs. I see no evidence that the retail store has ever engaged in the sale of home medical equipment or caskets, although it’s likely that in its early days, the wholesale division did peddle such wares.

Regardless, I consider that Marshall Field’s has been with me throughout my life’s journey. And, lest we forget, we are still able to enjoy those iconic, mint-infused chocolates, flavored with a touch of salt, for which Marshall Field’s has long been famous: Frango Mint Chocolates!

Now, I’m about to burst your bubble regarding Frango Mint Chocolates. The Rule of Three research team reveals that Marshall Field’s acquired the rights to Frango Mints when it purchased Frederick & Nelson, a Seattle-based retailer, in 1929; Frango Mints were a Seattle tradition first, and became a Chicago tradition. Man, I did not know that! Although, having turned the matter over to Rule of Three’s legal department, they have argued that, given the lapse of ninety-five years, Frango Mint Chocolates can legally and rightfully be claimed as a proud Marshall Field’s (and Chicago) product. Whew! That was a close one.

“Hakuna Matata,” all. . .

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