AIA MIA?

The AIA Bookstore bids adieu, temporarily.

by A.D. Amorosi

Three weeks ago, 17th and Sansom's AIA Bookstore was packed. Nothing strange there. For 31 years, the street-level adjunct of Philly's chapter of the American Institute of Architects sold not only the finest in art- and design-oriented volumes related to practice and theory, but also smart baubles, jewelry, stationery, games and toys. Unique Christmas decorations in particular were one of the things AIA was famed for.

"People would call us from July to find out when our Christmas room would open," says Leslie Oshana, an employee/buyer at AIA for 13 years. She still has sparkle in her hair as she talks. Toy buyer Michael Fulkerson has glitter in his eyebrows. "It's permanent," says Oshana.

What wasn't so permanent was AIA's location. Though its move to the Center for Architecture at 1218 Arch had long ago been announced, paving the way for 17th's new resident (a Kimpton Hotel) happened faster than expected. AIA had to be out this week. So while some of its inventory was placed into storage (for 1218's intended March opening), everything from Dada stationery, Phaidon- and Taschen-published books, soap houses and Human Insurgence Wilderness Whale and Skull toys got marked down 40 percent to 50 percent, with ornaments reduced 75 percent.

Now windows once filled with Karim Rashid chess sets and red pigeon lamps are empty. "The new space is cool but nothing can beat this," says Oshana in regard to the Rittenhouse area. "We had the most wonderful customers coming in with their dogs and their babies." It wasn't until one of Oshana's most avid shoppers came by that she became teary. Then she broke down a little.

"My first reaction when I heard we had to leave now was 'crap,' " laughs Fulkerson, an eight-year AIA vet. "We planned to leave. But not like this." A day before the store's Jan. 11, close, Fulkerson acknowledges the sale's mayhem and how neighbors in particular offered their deepest condolences before pillaging AIA for its discounted Ed Bacon city planning VHS tapes, the stackable display cubes Fulkerson built, and 6-foot-tall black Christmas trees. (OK, I bought that last item.) "It's a real neighborhood store," says Fulkerson.

"I'm sad to see it go because even without buying anything, it's a great place to browse," says Foster Trecost, a tax manager at the Mellon Bank Center. "It's like a library."

AIA was also a destination. If you were anywhere near Rittenhouse, you had to shop or at least stop. New Jersey's Marianne Eklund was an avid customer. She'll go to the new AIA. "But we had to hit here one last time," says Eklund with an armful of gifts for next year. "It's our holiday tradition."

At least she didn't get that black Christmas tree. Ho, ho.