From Big Box to Barbershops: Why the Future of Retail Has Always Been Human
- Rich Honiball
- 6 days ago
- 6 min read

At ShopTalk this year, one theme kept resurfacing: hospitality is the next frontier in retail. But the more I listened, the more I realized something deeper - retail isn’t just heading outside the box, it’s always lived there. You just have to know where to look.
That realization took me back to a moment in Dhaka, Bangladesh. I was on a three-week sourcing trip, visiting factories across Asia. Dhaka wasn’t my first stop, but it was the one that stayed with me - the place where the edges of commerce, community, and chaos all seemed to collide. There were no bright storefronts or slick loyalty programs. And yet, I saw one of the most honest, vibrant displays of commerce I’ve ever encountered.
The Literal & Figurative “Box”
For years, we’ve referred to traditional retail as “brick and mortar,” but let’s not forget - we also went through a phase where the future was imagined as purely digital. The industry raced to predict a commerce landscape divorced from place, people, and physicality, from web stores to virtual storefronts in the metaverse.
But that entire debate misses the point.
It ignored the informal retail ecosystems in places like Dhaka, where commerce is rooted in necessity. It overlooked the neighborhood farmers markets that thrive on community and seasonality. It discounted the meaningful role retail plays in military bases and Ships Stores around the world - serving a dedicated patron with needs, wants, and a deep connection to quality of life, familiarity, and mission support. It discounted the unique moments of browsing and discovery that happen when you're on vacation, unhurried and curious. While formats and channels may rise and fall, commerce has always been - and will always be - fueled by human connection and emotion.
The “box” we talk about isn’t just a structure. It’s a metaphor for rigidity - for assuming commerce must happen in a certain way, in a certain place. But the most meaningful moments in retail often happen outside those assumptions.
Dhaka – A Lesson in Unfiltered Commerce
I’ve been fortunate to travel to all 50 U.S. states and more than 70 countries for both business and personal exploration. I’ve walked the markets of Seville, wandered the streets of Shanghai, and watched the sunrise in the Sahara. But Dhaka? Dhaka challenged me in a way few places ever have. It made me slow down - and pay closer attention.
I love to travel - typically arriving solo for the first day or two, sneaking in time to explore before our local contacts knew I had arrived. But arriving in Dhaka, the moment I stepped out of the airport, I was overwhelmed - not necessarily afraid, but deeply unsettled by the sheer density, noise, and chaotic energy. Thrown off, I canceled my dinner plans that night, needing the pause to regroup.
Later, I went for a walk to get my bearings. Dusk was settling in, the sky still holding onto its last light. I ventured a few blocks from the hotel, but quickly realized there were no street signs, no traffic signals, no sidewalks - just the raw pulse of the city. I wasn’t unsafe, but I was undeniably out of place. I turned back.
The next morning, while driving to a factory, I opened up to my travel companion about what I was feeling. As someone who had lived in Dhaka for several years, he listened quietly. Then he said something that stuck with me:
“Some cities wear their beauty on the outside - Florence, Barcelona, Shanghai. Others ask you to look more closely, to search for what’s hidden. That’s where you’ll find something even more powerful.”
He was right. Along the way, we passed a scene that stopped me: more than thirty women, dressed in bright, beautiful saris, standing in line to purchase rice. They were chatting with each other, immersed in conversation. Focusing on them, you could almost miss their backdrop - an utterly grey, incomplete concrete building - abandoned, likely to never be finished. But if you focused solely on the women, you might have mistaken the moment for a scene at a luxury department store in New York or an avenue in Milan. The contrast was striking. The scene, unexpectedly familiar. The beauty - undeniably human.

Commerce Then, Now, and Always
Later, as we approached the recently built factory, I was struck again. The factory itself was pristine - modern, efficient, and thoughtfully constructed. From my trip prep, It had organized dormitories for workers, healthcare facilities, daycare centers. Everything you might expect from a best-in-class operation. But surrounding it were what seemed like thousands of people living in makeshift huts, tents, and temporary structures. My companion explained that while many were waiting for positions to open up, others were family members who had traveled with those lucky enough to find work, forming informal communities of support.
And as I looked more closely, I started to recognize it - commerce in its purest form.
Under the shade of a tree, a barber gave straight-razor shaves, with a line of customers waiting patiently for their turn on a wooden stool. Nearby, someone cooked over an open flame, selling hot roti to passersby. A group of women sat together, pulling apart selvage - discarded ends of fabric from the factory floor - spinning it back into colorful thread to weave rugs for resale. This vast 'city' was dotted with the exchanges of goods and services. This wasn’t just survival. This was ingenuity. This was an ecosystem. This was commerce. There were no loyalty programs. No data dashboards. No omnichannel strategy. And yet commerce thrived.
Often, we focus on the obvious - the storefronts we pass every day, the websites we frequent, the brands we already know. What I was witnessing was something elemental, an echo of ancient times, rooted in the core of what has always driven us to buy and sell. The truth of commerce, and maybe even the future of it, lives in these details we often overlook.
We chase what’s next in retail. What platform? What channel? What tech stack? But maybe some of the best insights about where we’re going can be found by observing how people have always traded, shared, bought, and sold - with emotion, with reputation, and with relationship at the center.
Hospitality as the Core of Retail
At ShopTalk, the buzz around “hospitality in retail” was unmistakable. And it’s not hard to see why - brands are racing to add warmth, personalization, and white-glove service to everything from checkout flows to customer service scripts. But as I listened, I kept thinking: This isn’t where we’re going. It’s where we’re returning.
Hospitality - the feeling of being seen, understood, and cared for - has always been at the heart of meaningful commerce. Whether it’s the luxury concierge who remembers your name or the street vendor who knows your usual order, that feeling transcends channel, format, and geography.
Yes, I value loyalty programs and personalization powered by data. I believe in physical retail and in unified commerce that integrates seamlessly across digital and real-world spaces. But all of those are tools. Enhancements. Multipliers. What they cannot replace - and must never obscure - is the human-to-human connection at the core of every great retail experience.
In Dhaka, I saw commerce driven by necessity. But I also saw generosity, pride, and emotion. Families cooking for strangers. Barbers offering the dignity of a clean shave. Women turning textile waste into opportunity. That’s hospitality. That’s retail. And that’s what will separate the transactional from the transformational in the years ahead.
A Call to Reimagine
As retail continues to evolve, it’s easy to focus on format shifts and technological leaps. Yes, commerce will flow between digital and physical spaces. It will take shape in flagship stores, boutique pop-ups, cruise ships, farmers markets, military bases, airport terminals, and luxury resorts. It may happen in a reimagined shopping mall or a revitalized downtown. It may even unfold in places we haven't yet imagined.
But the most important evolution won’t be where retail happens.It will be how it feels.
The future of retail is not about perfect omnichannel execution or cutting-edge AI - it’s about rediscovering what’s always made commerce meaningful: relationship, empathy, and experience. Whether in Dhaka or Dallas, the brands that thrive will be the ones that understand this truth and build not just transactions, but trust.
So, here’s our challenge:
Not to just design for convenience. We need to design for connection.
Not to just optimize for efficiency. We need to optimize for emotion.
Because in the end, whether you're in a big box store or beneath a banyan tree, retail has always been - at its best - a profoundly human act.
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