Used Bookstores Stock New Releases—Who Will Take on the “Reduced Shelves”?

A curious phenomenon is occurring simultaneously in the city of Hiroshima.

A used bookstore with over 80 years of history has begun to stock new releases. A bookstore named “BOOK PARK CLUB” has emerged within a fashion building. A department store has completely renovated its cosmetics floor for the first time in 23 years—none of these developments are likely to make flashy headlines. However, when viewed together, a single outline emerges. By keeping the “container” the same and swapping out the “contents,” there is a structural transformation aimed at connecting commerce to the next era.

Who is this change meant to benefit? With that question as a framework, I would like to explore these three developments.

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Used Bookstores Stock New Releases—Who Will Take on the “Reduced Shelves”?

The number of bookstores handling new releases in Hiroshima City has visibly decreased over the past decade. The decline in bookstores is a serious issue nationwide, prompting the Ministry of Economy, Trade and Industry to launch the “Bookstore Promotion Project” in 2024. Hiroshima is no exception. As the venues for encountering books shift from city centers to suburbs and from suburbs to online, the ordinary sight of “new releases within walking distance” is quietly disappearing.

In this void, it is the used bookstores that have stepped up.

“The decrease in stores handling new releases is a significant loss for Hiroshima,” says the store owner, a sentiment that cannot be fully explained by mere business calculations. The distribution mechanisms for used and new books are fundamentally different—contracts with distributors, return conditions, and shelf turnover rates. It requires a different set of skills than the operations honed over 80 years by used bookstores. Nevertheless, they have taken this step, driven by a sense of crisis felt only by those at the end of the distribution chain: if there are no “places to deliver,” the books themselves will not reach readers.

What is interesting about this movement is that the expertise of used bookstores in “curation” can be directly applied to selecting new releases. Instead of offering a comprehensive selection like large chains, the new releases chosen through the owner’s aesthetic sensibility are placed within the context of used books. For readers, this creates a “shelf that can only be found here.” They have not simply added products; the very definition of the used bookstore as a container has been rewritten.

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PARCO’s “BOOK PARK CLUB”—A Plaza in the Form of a Bookstore

The newly opened bookstore “BOOK PARK CLUB” in Hiroshima PARCO carries the name “PARK.” This naming choice reveals the intentions of the operators.

Traditionally, bookstores within fashion buildings have been merely a “place to stop by” as part of a tenant space. However, BOOK PARK CLUB aims to be a “place to linger,” centered around books while incorporating events, workshops, and collaborations with local creators. It is not just a transit point along the shopping route; it is a space that provides reasons to stay—essentially, a plaza.

What is noteworthy here is the situation of the PARCO building itself. In recent years, PARCO locations nationwide have accelerated their transition from a retail-focused floor layout to experience-oriented tenants. The trend of reducing apparel space while increasing dining, art, and community spaces is also progressing at the Hiroshima store. BOOK PARK CLUB is positioned within this context—meaning that it was not that a bookstore was added, but rather that a bookstore-like space was chosen as a result of changing the contents demanded by the building’s “container.”

This structure is interestingly contrasted with the earlier used bookstore. The used bookstore added new contents without changing its container, while PARCO replaced the contents required by its container. Although the directions are opposite, both movements stem from the same sense of crisis: “if things remain as they are, we will not be able to reach our audience.” Despite differing angles, the conclusions converge—this is where the essence of urban change becomes visible.

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Sogo Hiroshima Store’s Cosmetics Floor Revamp—The Department Store’s “Last Place to Protect”

Sogo Hiroshima Store has completely renovated its cosmetics floor. The length of time—23 years—carries significant weight as a fact. Twenty-three years ago was 2002—an era when smartphones did not exist, and the e-commerce penetration rate was less than 1%. During that time, the way cosmetics are purchased has fundamentally changed. People now look at reviews on social media, try products online, and buy them at drugstores. The purchasing experience of facing a beauty consultant at a department store counter has become merely “one of the options.”

In this context, investing approximately 200 million yen to expand to the largest sales area in the Chugoku and Shikoku regions is not merely an act of prolonging life. It is a declaration of the decision to choose the cosmetics floor as the “last place to protect” for the department store.

Looking at the department store’s revenue structure, there is rationality in this choice. Cosmetics have a high average transaction value and a high repeat purchase rate. The experience of face-to-face counseling is difficult to replace with online alternatives and serves as a strong motivation for customers to visit. Furthermore, as a draw for a wide area—attracting people from outside Hiroshima City or the entire Chugoku and Shikoku regions—the cosmetics floor stands as the last bastion alongside the food floor.

It is said that new brands have also been introduced as part of the renovation. Here too, there is a “swap of contents.” However, in the case of department stores, it is not just the products that are swapped out. The spatial design of the sales floor, the flow of movement, the lighting, and the height of the counters—all aspects that customers perceive as “experience” are subject to renewal. Although the exterior remains the same “Sogo Hiroshima Store,” the atmosphere changes the moment one steps inside. This difference in atmosphere is the mechanism that fills the gap of 23 years.

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The Three Scenes Reflect a Structure—Redesigning the “Delivery Mechanism”

Used bookstores, fashion buildings, and department stores. These three entities, differing vastly in business type and scale, are all engaged in “swapping contents” at the same time in the same city. While it may seem like a coincidence, the underlying dynamics are common.

One factor is the changing commercial area of Hiroshima. Amidst the declining population and aging in the Chugoku and Shikoku regions, Hiroshima City still retains its gravitational pull. However, this pull cannot be maintained without effort. If the reasons for gathering—namely, the “things that can only be obtained by coming here”—are not continuously updated, the commercial area will shrink. Each of the three entities is engaged in this updating process in their respective domains.

Another factor is the redesign of the “delivery mechanism” itself. The used bookstore has created a mechanism to deliver new releases by restructuring its distribution. PARCO has redefined the building’s functions to create a mechanism for delivering culture. Sogo has refreshed the spatial experience to create a mechanism for delivering cosmetics. All of them are answering the question of “how to deliver” rather than “what to sell.”

Stores are not disappearing. The way of delivery is changing. And when the way of delivery changes, the meaning of the container also changes.

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Future Questions—What Lies Beyond the “Swap”

Extending the life of the container by swapping out its contents is an effective strategy, but it is not a panacea. Continuously swapping out contents incurs costs. Used bookstores face the burden of maintaining new contracts with distributors, PARCO requires operational stamina to keep planning events, and Sogo has a timeline to recover its 200 million yen investment.

What truly deserves attention is who the swapped contents have made easier. The new release shelves at the used bookstore ease the burden for readers who have lost their nearby bookstores. BOOK PARK CLUB eases the burden for creators and young people searching for a place to belong. Sogo’s cosmetics floor eases the burden for those seeking the latest cosmetic experiences in Hiroshima.

The beauty of a mechanism lies in its quiet resolution of someone’s inconvenience.

In the city of Hiroshima, three containers are gradually swapping out their contents. There are no flashy signs. Yet behind the scenes, diligent arrangements are underway to reorganize the delivery mechanism. Beyond these arrangements lies the commerce of the next decade.

When the shape of the store changes, so too does the shape of the city—if only slightly.