Eclectic independent thrives in Ace's stable - Cliff's Variety - Brief Article

Home Channel News, Oct 8, 2001 by Brae Canlen

Cliff's Variety in San Francisco caters to a quirky clientele

SAN FRANCISCO -- In an old converted theater in the heart of the Castro district here lies one of Ace Hardware's newest members. Cliff's Variety is also one of its most unusual retailers, even by San Francisco's standards. The 65-year-old hardware store, which signed up with Ace last January, shows a different side of Ace's corporate profile. Apparently, the "We're All on the Same Team" co-op still has a place for iconoclastic dealers.

Cliff's Variety opened in 1936 and has moved several times, but always within a one-block radius. Ernie Asten, the founder's great-grandson, grew up in the Castro district and still lives here. The area is a longstanding center for the gay and lesbian community, but Castro Street also supports a bustling collection of gift boutiques, bookstores, clothing shops, restaurants and an art-film cinema.

"Parking is tough, but the foot traffic is phenomenal," said Asten, who has run the operation for the past 28 years. During a recent Thursday afternoon, Cliff's aisles were filled with customers, many carrying packages from other neighborhood stores. Some planned to call taxis, Asten said, while others would hop on a bus, trolley or underground train at the transit hub across the street. The "locals," a mixture of renters and homeowners, could just walk home to their Victorian duplexes and triplexes.

Cliff's relocated to its current location, a circa 1910 theater, in 1971. Skylights were installed into its 25-foot-high arched ceilings, and tall wooden ladders -- which roll around a perimeter track originally designed for barn doors -- allow workers to access upper reaches, where merchandise is stacked 16 feet and 20 feet high. Cliff's is a variety store that evolved into a hardware store as Asten added plumbing, electricals, tools, fasteners as well as lawn and garden. He didn't need to join a buying group; Asten got what he needed from a variety of distributors, many of them nearby.

"I used to be able to jump into the car and drive south of Market [Street] to pick up what I needed," Asten recalled. But after the dot-com invasion of San Francisco's industrial heart, many independent wholesalers closed, moved or were purchased. Some of Cliff's other suppliers cut back their lines, especially in housewares. Asten, whose company had been courted by different buying groups for several years, seriously considered the option.

Asten spoke to a few other retailers, but he didn't want to rely on their testimonials. So Asten asked reps from various wholesalers about their competition, anticipating the worst. "I expected that they wouldn't have nice things to say about [each other], but I thought the points they raised might be worth looking into," he recalled. Reps warned him that dealing with a co-op requires more work, and that product selection would fall short of his needs. But, to Asten's surprise, many of the reps complimented Ace Hardware whose prices were also a strong pull.

Cliff's signed on with Ace, but with the following caveat: "The San Franciscan culture is different." According to Asten, a strong Ace identity would turn off most customers, who see national chains as a corporate blot on the retail landscape. In fact, one customer told him, "I'd hate to see you go out of business and have an Ace come in here."

San Franciscans support small businesses as a matter of principle, which might explain why so many independent hardware dealers have survived. (Ace alone has 18 dealer-members in the city.) Another reason for independents' longevity is the fact that Home Depot has never been able to build a store within the city limits, thanks to community backlash. (Depot's latest proposal, located on the site of former Goodman Lumber, has yet to gain approval.)

So Asten is downplaying his Ace affiliation, which means no paint program or much in the way of Ace's private-label goods. "There was encouragement but no requirement to carry the Ace brand," Asten noted. But the breadth of products, along with the prices, has lured in some of Cliff's buyers and merchandising managers. "[Ace products] are making significant inroads into a number of departments in the store," Asten observed. Availability is eclipsing price for some products, he added.

It's unlikely that Ace will ever supply Cliff's chain department, which sells chains in a variety of colors that can be worn as jewelry. (The store sells matching clasps.) Ace wouldn't be much help in the wig department, either. Cliff's opened an annex in an adjoining storefront in 1988, and the merchandise is as eclectic as the customers. Decorative bath hardware, window treatments, and domestic linens are mixed in with buttons, fabrics and five different kinds of pheasant feathers. Drag queens shop here for rhinestone tiaras and feather boas, which are available in a dozen colors and styles. People in the entertainment business and kids preparing school projects also pick up supplies at Cliff's. During a recent visit, a Japanese tourist tried on a fuchsia wig while a mother and daughter picked out hair ribbons.