Farewell to Fiesta Mall : Mesa, AZ
The hardest word is goodbye (ft @dead__mall)
“Nothing stays the same. The comfort you seek can't be found. The things you once knew are not here anymore. It's gone. You have to cope with that loss somehow.”
I consider myself fortunate that I’ve never had to say goodbye to my childhood mall. As one of the largest in the UK, it’s unlikely that I’ll ever have to unless the retail space really changes beyond recognition. My situation is definitely not the norm.
According to Coresight Research, as many as 25% of all malls in the US will be closed by the year 2025. In other words, we’ll be seeing a lot more eulogies written for closing malls over the next couple of years. A couple of weeks ago, I encountered just such a piece by Maureen of DEAD MALL, a synthpop project, on Instagram.
Most of the content – images and text – below, comes directly from her. It features some brief interjections by me, italicised, and has been lightly edited to fit the Mall Talk format. I hope you find it as poignant as I did.
The mall that inspired me to start my music project back in 2016, Fiesta Mall, is currently in the process of being demolished. The metaphor is quite palpable.
When I first experienced my childhood mall in its abandoned state in 2016, it was still strangely open, doors unlocked, lights on, and music echoing through the empty storefronts. Nobody in sight.
That night when I entered its doorways looking for familiarity or nostalgia, a painful reality hit me like a ton of bricks. Nothing stays the same. The comfort you seek can't be found. The things you once knew are not here anymore. It's gone.
Fiesta Mall was developed by the Homart Development Company, a subsidiary of Sears and one of the largest builders of malls in the United States at one time. As Sears’ popularity began to wane in the ‘90s, Homart was sold to General Growth Properties (now defunct) for $1.85 billion in what was one of the biggest real estate deals in history at the time.
I was trying to figure out why Maureen’s post resonated so strongly with me, and others in the dead mall scene, and I think she really nailed what it comes down to in the paragraph above. Many of us only revisit our childhood malls to commune with the past when we’re back in our hometowns, visiting family for the holidays or returning for a wedding…or a funeral.
We have this misguided idea that, when we left, everything and everyone hit the pause button. That we can drop by and pick up right where we left off. Then we run into someone we graduated with at the gas station and they’re 31 with two kids now. We’re surprised that they don’t talk to anyone from school anymore, even though we don’t talk to them anymore either.
Maureen left the mall discouraged, looking for answers. And she found them. Or made them.
I wrote two albums about all the loss I’d known in my life, and it saved me. It helped me through an incredibly painful time in my life. I did what any artist does: I turned my pain into art.
The world is changing so aggressively fast now, it often feels like our brains are demolished on a monthly basis. It's overwhelming to me. [No wonder so many of us seek comfort in nostalgia...] But with destruction comes creation.
For those of who spent (wasted?) our youth at the mall, there are two days that are particularly tough. The day we come to understand that our childhood mall is dying, and the day it gets torn down. Maureen has already had to face both of these days – the demolition of Fiesta Mall began in July 2023. Her response to that news was this:
I hope to wrangle some of the chaos into inspiration for a new music project in the future, with different sounds and gear. I don’t even know yet. But, until then...RIP.
To those outside of the dead mall space, the idea of mourning a building might sound absurd. Of course, as Maureen points out, we’re not (just) mourning the loss of a physical place, but of the person we used to be when we spent time there.
We have these ideas about the demolition of our childhood malls. That it means you can never again point out where Rebecca made you laugh so hard that sweet tea came out of your nose, or punch Tommy on the arm and laugh with him about how the two of you had to outrun security when they caught you drinking beer in the parking lot.
But, then again, when’s the last time you talked to Tommy or Rebecca anyway?
I started this project because I want to share stories about malls, living or dead, that deserve to be heard. Regardless of the size of your existing following, if you have one, or whether you even consider yourself a creator.
Whether it’s a mall job that saved you, an explore gone wrong (or right), or a mall that defined your childhood, I want to hear it! If not, that’s cool too. But I’d really appreciate it if you’d consider sharing the project and spreading the word.