Futon Furniture Compass Points and the Road to the Frontier

All of the retailers discussed in this article are successful -- each on his own terms. And I dare say that not one of them would be comfortable -- or maybe the word is satisfied -- in any of the others' shoes. This is one of the conditions I find so fascinating about the futon furniture business in this area, and I imagine that it's pretty much the same across the country. There is a distinct aura of self-reliance about you retailers. On the one hand, it is inspiring to share your sense of mission. On the other, I sense that some of you are on a frontier, and that means that you are pretty vulnerable. But where is the frontier, and how do you make a go of it?

I chose to visit four furniture retailers in the area. One was Jordan's, a family-owned furniture superstore that carries a truly comprehensive selection of traditional items. The other three were futon furniture stores representing three rather different markets. One was John Buster's original futon furniture store, Bedworks, in Cambridge, MA. -- home of Harvard University and MIT. Including Home Design and Futon Express -- also in Cambridge -- and the Bedworks Warehouse store close by in Allston, Buster's group of four stores represent certainly one of the most well-established and successful chains of futon furniture specialty stores in the northeast. Another stop was at Fly-By-Night, the futon store founded in 1988 by Richard Zafft in Northampton, MA. The third one was Futons, Etc. in Seekonk, MA., one of four stores owned and operated by retailing dynamo Ray King.

What I could not ignore -- and what eventually became the driving premise behind this article -- were the differences between the respective retailing strategies these three successful futon furniture retailers had developed and how each one was so dependent upon the character of the marketplace. I was wrestling, as well, with the puzzling fact that Jordan's -- an enterprise so sophisticated in its retailing strategies that it borders on behavioral psychology -- was not able to mount a successful futon furniture program. This suggested to me that the character of the marketplace had a dramatically more significant impact on the futon furniture marketplace than on the traditional furniture marketplace.

(l to r) Sleep Lab sales associate David Hughes and Peter Bolton of Jordan's Furniture.

Jordan's is a massive furniture store with three stores in the greater Boston area. Joe (Tatulli) and I visited the store in Avon, MA, just south of Boston, where the corporate offices are located. We arrived early, about a half an hour before the store actually opened, for our interview and tour with Peter Bolton, Jordan's Bedding Merchandise Manager. Jordan's is about theater. The theater of merchandising. And I don't mean that in a negative sense at all. Whether you view it as a high art or a high science, Jordan's entertains its customers with a disarming sophistication which I doubt many retail enterprises can even come close to matching.

The Jordan's in Avon presents you with 80,000 sq. ft. of merchandise, all on the second floor of the building. It's hard to imagine even the best sales person staying on top of all the product information. In case the customer is interested, there is a "Fact Finder" card on every SKU in the store with descriptive information, beginning with point of origin and ending with instructions for care. For all its size, there is no sense at all of being lost in a warehouse. The store is strategically laid out in thematic zones, with U-shaped pathways leading you through each one. There is never a sense of being lost -- though I found it rather hard to visualize where I was in the building, at any given time. This layout helps them achieve a remarkably intimate atmosphere in many areas, considering the sheer vastness of the place. Supporting this effort, every zone has its own background music and its own scent which, together, serve to reinvigorate the shopper as he passes from one thematic area into the next. There are also animatronic figures placed around the store to amuse you as you browse through the furniture. In the "Sleep Lab," where they have their small selection of futons and frames on display, they have even rigged the mattresses so that when you lie down on one, the light above it dims slowly so that you are not distracted by the bright light that, otherwise, highlights that mattress.

Jordan's initially committed 1000 sq. ft. to displaying futons, frames, and covers. And they featured high-end product lines: Gold Bond, August Lotz, and SIS. Now, four units take up no more than 200 sq. ft. It is pretty easy to understand, though, why the category did not fit into their marketing formula. Bolton does not want to view it as their having failed to sell futons. Rather, futons and frames were simply too complex for his sales staff to demo effectively, relative to their traditional sales efforts. They took too much time and provoked too many questions. In other words, they didn't sell themselves. As Peter Bolton said, "the simpler it is, the simpler it is to sell." Most of the furniture carried by Jordan's sells itself, without requiring much demonstration. That's how the sales staff likes it. Futons, on the other hand, require that you know how to work them -- and that you believe in them as a preferable alternative to the sleeper sofa. But if your experience as a sales person is being able to sell three sleeper sofas, at higher price points, in the time it takes you to demo one futon, what's the point?

There's no better way to illustrate the difference between the way a futon furniture retailer and a traditional furniture retailer might view a potential customer than to examine, side-by-side, their respective information/response cards. The contrast between Jordan's shopper response card and the information sheet at John Buster's Home Design, his most comprehensive store, is striking for many reasons. The stated purpose of both is to serve the customer better. Buster's intention is to do that through finding out about the customer. Jordan's, on the other hand, intends to do that through making sure that the customer was serviced and entertained exceptionally well.

This Bedworks store was Buster's first and was opened in 1976. Today he operates four outlets in the Cambridge/Alston area, and still manufactures futon mattresses at this very location.

Home Design's information sheet is, frankly, the kind of questionnaire I would prefer to fill out. It's intimate, in that it asks you to share something about your life -- the choices you make which define who you are. Buster asks you questions about your education level, your income, your zip code, what kind of dwelling you live in and how long have you lived there. Do you plan to move soon? How many people live in your house? Do you have any pets? What kind? How do you commute to work? Which newspapers do you read regularly? Which magazines do you read regularly? Which FM radio stations do you listen to regularly? How would you rank your favorite kinds of music (given six categories)?

Buster makes it easy for you to respond, providing itemized check boxes in a tasteful format. There are twelve choices, for instance, just under the magazine question, including Time, The Economist, Metropolitan Life, and Utne Reader. The only thing missing is a space for providing your name and address. At first, I was puzzled by what I thought was a glaring omission -- it was conspicuously present on Jordan's form -- until I realized that that was primarily marketing information. Buster is more interested in knowing about you and what you need from him, and he says so right on the form. In fact, there are several informational pamphlets available at Buster's stores, all of which are designed to help you zero in on exactly what you need, based upon a range of factors.

With twenty years of experience as a designer, builder, and retailer in the futon furniture industry, John Buster knows the marketplace as well as anyone. Articulating what makes the category unique comes easily to him. He points out that "any new product requires a believer who is passionate about it." And futons are relatively new in the furniture market. That's clearly why research and design are still such an integral part of so many individual businesses in the category. There is a cottage industry ethos about the marketplace that is both invigorating and confounding. Confounding because it means that there is far less standardization of product mechanisms than you find in the sleeper sofa category. That, in turn, puts a heavy burden of proof on the sales staff. John Buster revels in that burden because he is passionate about his product. He knows his product well enough to be able to demonstrate it professionally, no matter what its particular idiosyncrasies might be.

In some ways, it's almost like he's a matchmaker, custom tailoring futon, frame, arms, and cover -- not to mention accessories -- to match a customer's profile. So, why wouldn't everyone choose this kind of service over Jordan's, assuming they knew that they had a choice?

In the course of our conversation, I came up with an analogy from the food industry. It started with this question: If you had a choice between eating lunch at McDonald's or eating at a one-of-a-kind grill, which would you opt for -- assuming you liked burgers? I suggested that most people who would come into a futon furniture store, like Home Design, on their own would choose the grill, whereas the people who would choose to go to a major furniture store would turn into McDonald's. Why? It's simple, really. When you go into a grill for the first time, you don't know anything about the place. The product is unpredictable, the layout is unfamiliar, and the management is unknown. How much will it cost? Throw kids into the mix and you are too keyed up to think straight. By contrast, McDonald's is a relief for many. Forget that the food is questionable on a number of levels. You know what it will taste like. You know what it is going to cost. You know what it is going to smell like. You know what is expected of you as a customer. In other words, there is a ritual that we are all familiar with, and most of us live by rituals. Going into a new place of business, especially a small place of business that bears no recognizable logo, shoots fear through the hearts of many -- fear of the unknown.

This discussion led me to view Richard Zafft's Fly-By-Night store in a different light than I had originally. Zafft does not think of himself as a business man -- at least not in the traditional sense of the word. Some would call his approach naive, but there is little doubt that he is successful, according to his concept of success. A telling sign of his personal philosophy is how our interview began. Within a few minutes of my arriving at his store, a railroad car layout occupying about 1000 sq. ft., Zafft escorted me out of the store and we headed towards the mainstreet of this quintessential college town. Strolling through the alleyways leading up to Main Street, he began to educate me about Northhampton, speaking of where the people you might see on any given weekend come from -- and why they come. There is a certain kind of culture here that attracts a certain kind of person. And, according to Zafft, they come even from the surrounding states, on a routine basis, just to be a part of that culture.

Zafft started on the sidewalk, in the tradition of many early futon retailers, but moved into this Main Street location in Northampton several years ago.

Zafft went into business for himself in 1987, literally selling futons off the street. The police, however, didn't cotton to his street vendor status, though, so after several warnings, he renting space in the bottom level of a plumbing supply store, and from there moved "uptown" to Main Street -- again occupying rather confined space, below street level, before moving to his present location in 1994.

The name Fly By Night came about from a conversation Zafft was having with a friend about the future of his business. His friend argued that he could not continue to operate a business from a pallet on the street. No one would take such a fly-by-night setup seriously. Zafft knew the advice was sound, but he wanted to preserve the original premise of his business venture. So, Fly By Night (which is copyrighted, by the way, as is his tag line, Helping Students Sleep Through School) was born.

Richard Zafft of Fly By Night Futons in Northampton, MA.

It strikes me now that Northampton is, in a way, Zafft's store-at-large. And I suspect that one of the reasons he is successful here is because the culture does not support the traditional institutions of the retailing marketplace with anything close to the blind faith you might find in the heartland. This was made abundantly clear -- and it was further amplified through my conversation with John Buster -- when Zafft pointed out that a McDonald's had been forced to close recently because of poor business. The same thing had happened to a Benneton clothing store more recently. Zafft doesn't even really like to talk about price points because that's not a relevant factor in his approach to retailing. His primary concern is that the customer purchases what he or she needs. He wants only to make a fair return for his efforts and to sleep with a clear conscience.

He did not speak of these business failures with an I-told-you-so arrogance but, rather, with an affirmative sense of pride in his people's rectitude. Commenting on the unfortunate appearance of a Starbucks on Main Street, he characterized it as an affront to the personal integrity of the community. We had left ostensibly to get coffee for ourselves and for one of his staff, but I think we really went for that walk because Zafft's retailing strategy is predicated on his respect for the place and the people who inhabit it. That might not work in a lot of places, but it works here just fine. After all, there is no unknown to fear.

So, is the trick to somehow dispel the fear of the unknown? And will Zafft's admirable community-based idealism fly in less friendly skies?

At lunch, John Buster sketched several designs on his place mat. Then he drew a map of the United States and plotted where the futon furniture business really took hold in this country -- and where it continues to be concentrated: mainly the urban areas along each coast, as well as interior urban centers where there are also a high number of college students. Granted, there are successful retail enterprises which don't fit these demoimages -- the more liberal small college towns, for instance, but these are the areas where the business is truly grounded.

At that point, Buster simply asked, "How do we move into the heartland?" It is a profound question, one that presents both a literal and figurative problem for the futon retailer -- the latter being much more important. Any one of you can literally go out into the heartland and build a store. But will the customer come?

Having grown up in a small town in North Carolina, I remember well the rites of passage which bestow "acceptance" from the outside world upon the citizens of a place in the heartland. The day that it was announced that a McDonald's was going to be built just this side of the new mall was a banner day for the community. It immediately granted our town the status of inclusion in the world body. We were going to be just like every other small town (wannabe city) in the United States. It didn't matter that the food really wasn't as good as what you could get at the Carolina Cafe -- or "Miss George's," as it was called by those who had a favorite booth. McDonald's was a happening. I don't think it would have made any greater impression had someone dropped the Statue of Liberty into the middle of City Lake. We pledged our faith to McDonald's that year, and over time forsook many of the "fine food" eating establishments which had always provided a comfortable place to share good food and authentic conversation. But enough nostalgia.

My point here is that consumers often give themselves over to institutions they trust -- especially ones which don't require much more of them than their passive participation, regardless of whether the product is really superior to -- or even as good as -- what they have chosen to pass up. Maybe institution is the key word here. This willingness to be led by a force greater than they are is, I suggest, the collective consumer mind set which futon furniture retailers must counter attack somehow. Figuring out how to become an institution, in the context of a marketplace that satisfies your defintion of success, may be the path to security. That is, if you have your heart set on conquering the heartland.

What distinguishes Ray King from Richard Zafft and John Buster can probably best be illustrated by something he said towards the end of our interview: "I like the trenches. This is where the perfect information comes from." King is a competitor, a scrapper. To listen to him speak about retailing, you would think it was a form of combat. And where Futons, Etc. is located -- along a stretch of highway in Seekonk, MA., that presents a shopper with just about every kind of superstore there is -- it's easy to see how he has developed that hard edge. King really is on the frontier for this category, and the strategies he employs to make this 1200 sq. ft. shop a winner reveal just how important a role survival instincts play out here. While Zafft is supported by a small college community that embraces his idealism and Buster is supported by an intellectual, entrepreneurial culture which, I suspect, wouldn't be caught dead on a sleeper sofa, King is really out there in no man's land. Slow dogs end up dead on this highway.

King is currently operating four stores: the one in Seekonk, where Joe and I visited with him, a rather small store in Providence near Brown University, and two larger stores -- one in Framingham, MA, outside of Boston, and another one in Warwick, RI. Those stores are bigger than Futon, Etc., covering approximately 4000 sq. ft.. I'd be willing to bet, though, that it is here on Route 6 -- across the street from Jennifer Convertibles, and within a couple of miles of two of the largest furniture retailers in southern New England -- that King measures his success.

According to King, high-quality goods are the way to go. He sees no ceiling to his price structure, and he's convinced that being face-to-face with the competition has allowed him to thrive. Of course, it doesn't hurt that King has substantial experience in the furniture business. He understands the enemy, and he routinely checks them out to make sure that they don't gain the upper hand. He's thrilled that Jennifer Convertibles opened a store nearby. He's close enough that some of their traffic ends up in his store. His staff (King works the floor himself, whenever he can) is trained not to deliver the usual sales pitch most of his customers expect. Instead, their mission is to educate the customer and, thus, build credibility for the product. Contrary to what Peter Bolton had concluded from Jordan's experience with futon furniture, King knows that the product will sell itself. It does, however, require a proper introduction.

What you see in Futons, Etc. is what you get, and King prefers it that way. He believes one of the industry's greatest strengths is that it has nothing to hide, and he credits that trait with helping him to sell roughly the same futon, frame, and cover package to a female senior citizen from a local group home for the elderly as he sold to a Brown student with a mohawk and lots of earrings. There are no frills in this store, but he carries the goods. There are 3000 decorator fabrics available, and all of the futon covers King carries are out of their bags and on display. Arms of various styles and finishes are simply hung along certain walls, and frames ranging in price from $40 to $800 are arranged tightly on the floor. In other words, King carries whatever the customer might want. If he can lure them into the store, he knows that he has a good chance of making a sale.

Ray King believes the retail side of the industry is headed towards specialty chains, with multiple stores representing a group effort against an intensely competitive traditional furniture marketplace. If you're headed for the frontier, it would probably be worthwhile to consider his advice.

All of this may sound rather naive to some of you, but sometimes it takes a naive perspective to see a larger pattern which, through time, has become all but invisible to those who dwell in the pattern every day. I'm not just talking about futon furniture retailing but about a far more complex and interconnected pattern having to do with retailing in general -- and where the threads representing this category lie in the broader fabric of the entire furniture industry.

For those of you who are skeptical of my line of reasoning here, consider this anecdote: last summer my brother-in-law, Nelson (who had spent the last five years living and working in Budapest, Hungary) invited a Hungarian friend to the U.S. for a visit. The man had never traveled beyond the border of his own country before, so to find himself in Raleigh, N.C., was quite a cultural shock. Soon after this innocent traveler arrived, Nelson decided to show him Crabtree Valley Mall -- a rather nice mall, as malls go. Nelson, however, did not tell his guest where they were going. He wanted to surprise him. They parked near the entrance of one of the anchor department stores, and Nelson's friend commented on the splendid facade of the building. But when they walked in, his friend became confused and asked Nelson what this place was. Nelson then explained the concept of a mall to the man. Noticeably embarrassed, the man just shook his head. He had thought that they were entering a church.

Oh, and "Miss George's"? The last time I drove by the place, it had been converted into a tanning salon. It was fluorescent pink.