Can you afford NOT to shop local?

A few years ago, my husband attended a book release party for the then-latest Harry Potter volume. The little bookstore in the small town I lived in then went all-out on the party, offering a quidditch match, trivia games and food. The boys and I were out of town, so we couldn’t make the party, but my husband was in line at 12:01 waiting to purchase his copy of the book.

But, he told me later, he noticed a strange phenomenon as he listened to different conversations going on in the crowd around him: some of the people who’d been enjoying the party were getting in their cars and leaving—to go buy the book elsewhere, cheaper.

This holiday I’m reminded of that story as I wonder what fate our small bookstores and indie shops might face as people tighten their purse strings even more, whether because they’re suffering economic setbacks, or in anticipation of them. If a beloved community store couldn’t get people to pay full-price for a book during relatively prosperous times even after offering a fun evening and free food, how are they supposed to survive during a recession?

I feel like it’s my duty, now more than ever, to shop at local and indie stores. Hey, everybody loves a deal—I’m certainly no exception. But small stores don’t keep their prices higher because they’re greedy. In the case of an indie bookstore, the small markup on books, combined with the fact that they aren’t able to purchase in the same kind of bulk as a larger store, make it difficult, if not impossible, for a small store to compete with the sort of prices a big-box or chain store can pull off.

The ‘value’ isn’t in the price of the book or toy or gadget, though: it’s in what a neighborhood bookstore has to offer a community.

I know how easy it is to take a small-town bookstore, toy store, or gift shop for granted: sure, they’re great for popping into when we’re taking a leisurely stroll through the downtown strip, but is it the first place that pops into our heads when we get an itch to buy the latest bestseller or a gift? If not, why not?

I can already hear the arguments from dissenters: why should I buy that book, toy or knick-knack for full price when I can get it cheaper down the road? What have small stores got to offer that large ones don’t, less expensively, until late at night, seven days a week, and with a huge selection of coffees to boot? Don’t you believe in capitalism? (And of course, with the economy the way it is: but I can’t afford to buy stuff full-price!)

Perhaps you don’t really care if your town has thriving independent stores, in which case you may not understand my logic. But I buy my family’s books—and anything else I can get, from groceries to paint—in town whenever I can because I value living in a community where I can buy household goods without having to drive to a strip mall ten miles away.

As for what a small community bookstore has to offer? For a start, the fact that the owners and employees recognize me and my children when we walk in the door, have actually read—and formed an opinion on—most of the books on their shelves, and add vitality to a business district—all of which are worth more than a discount to me. And yes, I believe in capitalism, which in my mind means making purchasing decisions based on what product or service has the best value—not necessarily which one is the cheapest.

To me, it’s about more than trying to save a few dollars on this toy or that book. It’s that I don’t feel like I can afford to live in a place where indie stores don’t exist. What would our cities and small towns look like if they all went away and all that was left were strip malls?

Don’t get me wrong—larger stores can have their place. Sometimes, a 10 PM bookstore trip is a necessary sanity-saver at the end of a busy day. And once in a while, I like to wander around rows and rows of books and magazines, just to see what’s out there.

Of course, having been broke…really, really, really broke…before, I understand that you can’t spend more than what you have. For people in that position, I really understand the dilemma and figure you do what you can. But there is a whole segment of the population for whom “value” has come to mean “how much stuff can I get for my money”, not “Could I do with fewer things so that I can invest a little more in what I value?"

Neighborhood shops, especially my beloved indie bookstores (I hope you’re lucky enough to have one in your community) are more than just places to buy things. They’re part of the community: a place for kids to learn to love books, a place for adults to get to know their neighbors. I support them because I want that kind of store to be around, for me, for a good long while.

And of course, I shop there because I want them to be around for my kids. Can I really afford not to?

--Meagan Francis is an author, writer, and mom of four with another on the way. Find out more about her at her blog.

This is an original post to the Chicago Moms Blog.