Did you know that the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade wasn’t
the first Thanksgiving Day parade? I learned that this week and it’s stuck with
me all day as a prime example of how easily history can be revised by the victor.
The victor in this case is Macy’s and the loser is Gimbels.
If you live in or near Philadelphia, you’re probably already aware of this, but I, being an ignorant American, was unfamiliar with the true
origins of the Macy’s parade.
Photo courtesy of hiddencityphila.org |
It began in 1924, four years after competing department
store Gimbels began the trend with its inaugural parade in 1920, when fifty
employees dressed up as clowns and marched down Philadelphia’s Benjamin
Franklin Parkway in order to advertise the Toyland section of the store.
Bernard Gimbel, a rising star in the family business,
decided to create the parade as a promotion of the store’s toy selection to
attract families for the following busy shopping day (now known as Black
Friday). The tactic worked, as Gimbel was able to have a profitable holiday season
despite the down economy of the great depression.
So it was only natural that Gimbel’s biggest competitor
would borrow the idea and run with it in a much larger city. In New York City,
the Macy’s Parade was a show of extravagance that Gimbels couldn’t match. The
balloons were bigger, the performances more extravagant, and the setting was
Time Square, the undisputed center of the pop-culture universe.
The rivalry was even highlighted in Miracle on 34th
Street with Gimbels coming off as money grubbing snobs and Macy’s being
portrayed as the generous, friendly competitor.
Photo courtesy of hiddencityphila.org |
By all accounts, the rivalry between the two department
stores was cordial and friendly. The friendly rivalry was even highlighted in
the holiday classic Miracle on 34th Street. By the time Gimbels
opened a store in Manhattan, competing directly with Macy’s flagship operation,
the rivals seemed to harbor no hard feelings. Oftentimes Macy’s would direct
customers to Gimbels when they couldn’t find what they needed, and vice versa.
On one occasion Gimbels promoted Macy’s flower show with a sign that read “Does
Gimbels tell Macy’s? No, Gimbels tells the world!”
This was an honest to goodness, classic business rivalry.
And the parades were the public personification of that rivalry - the chest
puffing of each company’s turkey feathers, if you will. Unfortunately, it had
to end when Gimbels went out of business in 1986, though the parade continuesto this day, under the sponsorship of Dunkin Donuts.
I’m from Connecticut, not far from either New York City or
Philadelphia, but I’d never known anything about the Gimbels parade. Of course,
I’ve been aware of the Macy’s parade since I watched it every Thanksgiving as a
child. That’s either an indictment of my own ignorance or simply an example of
how easily history can be rewritten.
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