I spent 5 days in a mall<

NEON put down its suitcases in the Beaugrenelle shopping center in Paris, without leaving it for 5 days. Meet all those who make this temple of business work, from small hands to big buyers.

Day 1

9:59 a.m. In front of the huge glass facade, about twenty customers are quietly waiting for the doors to open. The guard in the Men in Black costume looks at his watch. "The Beaugrenelle center welcomes you", whispers a hostess in the speakers as I enter the place. It smells of patchouli, vanilla and cedar, the music is soft, the sun floods the atrium, reflected by a huge mobile suspended at the top of the skylight. It's beautiful, it's clean, it's cold. Cafés, shops, restaurants: 110 brands share the 50,000 m2 of this new generation shopping center in the heart of Paris.

“Here, it's like a sports locker room: what is said in the security PC stays in the security PC. »

I discover my home for the next five days: PC Aquarius, at the end of a white corridor, behind swinging doors that separate the world of “shoppers” from that of employees. A large room occupied by a desk and computer cabinets, a small kitchen with a microwave and a tired coffee maker, staff lockers, a sink, a shower, and my cot. It smells like sweat, like after a football match. Moreover, I am warned: “Here, it's like a sports locker room: what is said in the security PC stays in the security PC. Prohibition for the agents to speak to me, ordered the boss of the subcontracting company. But football, we will discuss a lot. It's because the nights are long. At half past midnight, when the customers leave the last screening of the cinema, Beaugrenelle sinks into torpor. "Until 4 or 5 am, nothing happens", acknowledges Fahd*. To kill time, we comment on the exploits of Messi, before embarking on a game of FIFA. "Otherwise, we'd be staring each other in the eye all night. You mustn't sleep,” he yawns, taking a few steps to stretch. Here, we are called Fahd, Mounir, Adam or Fabien, and we often say a few words of Creole or Arabic. At 2 o'clock, they offer to take me with them to the bowels of the center. This is the round, the one where they check the pressure of the fire suppression system, track down red lights and irregular readings on the dials. Patchouli gets caught up in the smell of humidity. “Part of the technical rooms and the car park is located up to 6 m below the water table,” the technical director told me later. Another smell attacks me. It takes to the guts, it scratches the throat. These are the fat tanks where the restaurants discharge each evening, through a system of heated pipes housed in the walls, the waste from their kitchens. Back to PC. In the bluish light of the security screens, I slip into my sleeping bag and close my eyes, lulled by the image of the escalators turning in the void.

Day 2

4 hours. BEEP BEEP BEEP. I wake up with a jolt. In the dark, Lotfi* reassures me: “It's the Marks & Spencer truck. At the end of the corridor, on the unloading dock, a 33-tonne is backing cautiously. The supermarket receives its first delivery. Ivan is Czech, he left the day before from England and has just dropped off enough to fill the fresh food section. The truck is sealed to prove that it has not been opened, one of the store employees checks the temperature. 5°C. “If we exceed 6°C, we send it back. » 11,000 products are unloaded that morning, just for the food department of Marks & Spencer. Ivan deposits the goods on the quay, a team of drivers takes care of the rest. Loxe and Miky push their cart to the warehouse while talking about their evening. They have known each other since childhood and have set up a rap group, Brigade de nuit. When the center opened in November, Miky applied, before being joined by Loxe a few weeks later. “It's a nice job, physical, and not too badly paid. They want me to talk about a friend of theirs who died in prison. “The guards killed him. I ask: "And before Beaugrenelle, what were you doing?" Miky smiled. Hesitate. The years of bullshit resurface. “Before was before. He sinks into the freight elevator before disappearing behind a pile of yogurts.

The first truck barely unloaded, the second enters in turn. Ivan leaves. No time to chat, he has to go through Belgium to pick up a shipment of potatoes, sleep for four hours, and head for England. I find Miky, Loxe and the others one floor above. They move on to segregation: the food is sorted by family, placed near the shelves, the rest goes to the cold room.

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7 hours. Another team takes over. Tailor for the girls, jacket for the boys, they will take care of the shelving, hold the tills, advise the customers. Ten minutes before opening, it's the brief for the women's clothing area. We talk about conversion rates and exceptional operations, we applaud the results of the day before, we discover the objectives of the day. In the staff room, at the end of a corridor, a sign catches my attention. The photo of an employee, all smiles, “saleswoman of the week”. Next to it, a receipt is pinned, a nice addition of 552 euros, accompanied by a note: “A fine example of cross-selling. Cheer ! »

“The offer exists elsewhere, but people come looking for something else, something animal: contact. We need that more and more. »

20 hours. Atrium. The sound is pushed to the bottom. “I warn you, if there is a rumba, I'm off. “On Thursday, it's nocturnal. And who says nocturnal says entertainment. Tonight is Latin music, and Anna, 61, didn't want to miss it. “The place lends itself to dancing, it's an opportunity to meet people. A mambo ends our discussion. “All that is entertainment, animation, but above all business, not social, analyzes ethologist Jean-Marc Poupard. When we ask people about this kind of places, their perception is negative, we are told about temples of consumption. But you find these same people here on weekends. The offer exists elsewhere, but people come looking for something else, something animal: contact. We need that more and more. “There is the idea of ​​customer comfort, but the purpose is absolutely commercial,” adds Thibaut Besozzi, urban sociologist. “Despite everything, it brings more diversity, because the shopping center is almost a public space. We generally make a rather quick critique by reducing them to those of the peripheries. But in the city centers, they refer to the village square, with real meeting places. On the white marble lit by nightclub spotlights, it sways with more or less elegance in the scent of patchouli. “Normally, I don't like shopping malls, with strollers everywhere and people talking loudly. There, that changes, ”smiles Amine, who made the marcel fart. Every week, he dances salsa in a room. “But we are facing a mirror. Here is a real space. And then, afterwards, we nibble a piece on the spot. »

Day 3

3:30 p.m. Karim is waiting. As usual. Tie knot impeccable, hair slicked back under his cap, he observes the street. For 10 euros, a client can leave his car keys with him. “Me, I like women, watches and cars. So here, I combine business with pleasure,” jokes the 38-year-old valet. He lists the cars he has had the opportunity to drive. Porsche 911s, a Maserati GranTurismo, and a Bentley Continental coupe. “The model of my dreams. But I would have to work a thousand years to pay for it. Karim leans over and watches the back of my neck carefully. "It's okay, you have a nice gradient. He specifies: “I am a hairdresser. The job of valet takes him a few hours a day, he spends the rest of the time doing perms in a Parisian salon. Previously, he was a master driver and set up a restaurant in Algeria. He allows himself to be photographed, he was also a model. A thousand lives in one. "With around twenty cars a day, it's sometimes long," admits his colleague, who comes to take over. “Time is in your head,” interrupts Karim. Before going to inform a tourist, he adds: “If you want, I'll cut you for 17 euros. »

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We still need to innovate to attract 12 million people every year.

i am going to learn how to read and write tamil by the end of year 2021.

— VithuBala⭐ Fri Nov 27 04:12:08 +0000 2020

There are hundreds of them, every day, to keep the machine running: subcontractors, such as for cleaning or security, or directly hired by the shops. At the helm of this 700 million euro liner, Manuel Tessier, 33. He sees himself as a village mayor and makes sure that his constituents (the shops) pay the least amount of charges possible, by offering them the best service. To attract its customers, Beaugrenelle relies on luxury, innovative services (a repair workshop at Darty, running sessions at Nike), chic restaurants and high-tech paraphernalia based on ultra-modern interactive terminals and apps. for smartphones. We still need to innovate to attract 12 million people every year. This is the objective assigned to Manuel. According to a study by Xerfi Precepta, the 750 French hypermarkets and shopping centers have seen their turnover drop since 2008. Food is no longer enough. "The pleasure of buying, in decline, will be replaced by the pleasure of walking", predicts the cabinet. It is “retailtainment”, a mix between commerce and leisure, or “the use of sounds, atmospheres, emotions and activities to put customers in a consumer spirit”. That's why that smell of patchouli doesn't leave my nostrils. It is the perfume of the center created by Emosens, a company of "olfactory marketing". “We worked from models, photos and keywords: 'modernity', 'top of the range', 'spacious', 'bright'”, says Stéphane Arfi, its director. Patchouli, therefore, for the current and luxurious side, but not too many flowers not to look old-fashioned. “A study has shown that when a store is well scented, people stay there 30 to 40% longer. And the longer you stay, the more you buy... After dinner, a last trip to the deserted centre. There's only me and my reflection in the windows, ad infinitum. Suddenly, the feeling that two eyes are staring at me. A little girl looks at me, motionless. I jump, and she disappears, swallowed up by the advertising screen where she gives way to a boy. His shorts are minus 30%.

Day 4

“Working in a store, yes, with a suit, it feels good. But not housekeeping. »

6 hours. Bassari* goes back and forth in the aisles with his scrubber-dryer. He traveled 1h40 from Créteil, for 3h30 of work today. 500 euros at the end of the month, “sometimes 700”. So he hopes. The CDI, even if we repeated to him as evidence: "It's the crisis". A second job, too, "anything" to be able to supplement his pay. His girlfriend and daughter are waiting for him in Lyon, at his mother-in-law's. “I need money to find a bigger apartment. The family tells me “we have to come and get them”. But I need time. On all fours nearby, one of his colleagues rattles in Portuguese against a stubborn stain of chocolate. A security guard challenges another in Arabic. The Tower of Babel is awakening. On the cleaning side, the language is melodious and sunny: they are often Cape Verdean, Brazilian or Portuguese; to which are added a few Arabs, Romanians and Africans. "What do you want, young, very fresh, very white, they don't want to do that", comments one of their managers, who also started at the bottom of the ladder. “Working in a store, yes, with a suit, it feels good. But not housekeeping. »

16 hours. Lara is scouting. She scours the shops, but today she doesn't buy anything. But that's his job. Lara is the centre's official personal shopper. His mission ? “Reassuring customers while boosting them. " His passion ? “Mixing low cost with dressier. His clients hold management positions or are young executives of multinationals. She also had a visit from a… Bitch. That of Canal +, which trapped it on the basis of "you only bring me shit, in fact, you do not see who I am". And, sometimes, a student in distress. “Parents call on me for these girls in pain, whose bodies do not correspond to what they see in magazines. They need help. Almost a social mission. "I'm a bit of a clothing shrink. So Lara asks them for a photo, a budget, a style, and goes to explore the shops in the center. “They want to be pushed to the maximum of their beauty. When they have found what they need, I am overwhelmed. I have fulfilled my mission. »

“These clandestine populations come to take advantage of a certain form of sociality: visibility, a 'being together', a place in the city. »

Geneviève has wrinkles like rivers and a back like a mountain. She has just bought a shampoo from Yves Rocher and greets the seller by her first name. Beaugrenelle is her second home, she comes there three or four times a week, sometimes just for fun. Geneviève is 92 years and two days old. “At this age, we count. She sits down on a bench, puts down her bag, stretches out her arms. "Look how pretty it is!" She knew the old Beaugrenelle in the 1980s, the one before the reconstruction, a concrete facade that hid the small traffic in the corridors. “It was tortuous and badly attended. Now it's clear and welcoming. So, on days when she doesn't need anything, she crosses the center from one side to the other, rather than taking the street to go to the bakery. She has time, and no one is waiting for her. These walkers, the sociologist Thibaut Besozzi scrutinizes them regularly. “In shopping centers, there is a whole population other than the customers: young people between two classes, the elderly, and the marginalized. These clandestine populations come to take advantage of a certain form of sociality: visibility, a “being together”, a place in the city. It connects them to the city even though they are excluded from it. It is the theater of modern consumerist society. »

Day 5

Sunday. Boredom. I look at the huge screen that has been broadcasting a baby skateboarding on a loop for five days. An ad for Fnac, I believe. I can't stand babies or skateboards anymore. Only the cinema and the restaurants still welcome customers. I enter the Pathé designed by the famous designer Ora Ito. The impression of being in a futuristic airport, with its warped wooden ceiling and its white furniture. In front of each room, a screen specifies the sound system or the space between the rows (1.10 m), enough to stretch your legs without hitting the front seat occupied by the great lady with the big tuft of hair. Anyway, here, the rooms are tilted at 25 degrees to avoid this kind of inconvenience, and lovers can choose “duo” seats where they sip a glass of champagne.

On the floor above, hammer blows resound behind a facade covered with an advertising tarpaulin. Soon here will open a new Italian restaurant. I push open the door and meet José and his son Nelson, busy cleaning their machines. José is “the king of waxed concrete”. He worked in quite a few airports, but also in shopping centres: Vélizy, Aulnay… “We are everywhere. Like misery. José has a tanned face and “r”s rolling around in his mouth. At 65, he would like to retire but can't bring himself to do so. If he leaves, he closes his box. No one, not even her 39-year-old son, wants to take her back. So José continues, so as not to lose everything he has built with his hands, as wide as snowshoes. “When I arrived in France in 1967, I walked for nine days, I had 53 francs in my pocket. With that, I lasted three months in a Portuguese slum in Saint-Denis. »

18 hours. I leave José and head for the exit. Delivery ? I have just spent five days in a mini-society that is ultimately not so different from what I will find outside. A search for cleanliness, safety and consumption. My complexion is pale, my lips parched by the air conditioning, my feet like a mushroom house from trudging between shops. And, embedded in my clothes, a smell of patchouli, vanilla and cedar.

* Some first names have been changed.

Article published in NEON magazine in June 2014

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