The shop owner, who is neither Pomeroy, nor Winterbottom
On April 21, 1994 — Queen Elizabeth’s 68th birthday — Rodney Young and three investing chums opened Reichenbachstrasse’s Pomeroy & Winterbottom to a British-wares-starved public. The shop’s name refers to two imaginary characters in the 1963 German cult classic and New Year’s Eve favorite, Dinner for One (the slapstick television skit, with its British content and actors, has, incidentally, never been shown in England). “We were going to call it Miss Sophie’s” (the work’s heroine), chortles Young, “but I knew I’d be forever dubbed Miss Sophie! If you think about it though, the better retailers often have two names — ‘Marks and Spencer,’ ‘Crabtree and Evelyn,’ ‘Lord and Taylor.’” Plotting a marketing strategy, Young and Co. followed that trend, injecting a bit of humor that would draw 80 percent of business from German customers and the rest from UK natives seeking a piece of home.
Young (59) has resided in the Isar city longer than most English-speaking expats — 35 years. After a one-year English-teaching stint in Munich in 1964, Young returned to his hometown near London. Quickly disillusioned with small-town living, the youthful adventurer plotted a prompt move to Bavaria. “There were no prospects there for me, life was rather mundane.” Young spent four months working for Siemens before finding his niche — one that would become a 30-year career in retail merchandising. Over the course of those three decades, the knowledgeable scout provided buyers from all over the world — including from such exclusive American department and retail stores as Tiffany and Co., Jordan Marsh and Nordstroms — with detailed lists of European products to fit each store’s needs. “A merchandiser acts as the ‘finder,’” explains Young. “I was in charge of housewares, glass and china. I would call the factories over here, cull through their catalogues, make individual catalogues for each buyer according to their respective requirements and arrange shipping once the buyer selected merchandise.”
The experience Young gained from choosing just the right Spode china for one store and the appropriate German crystal for another led to his decision to open Pomeroy & Winterbottom. “Once we decided to open the store, I went on a buying trip to England. I literally bumped into an old buyer friend of mine on the street. She was the ‘big boss’ buyer for the May Company. Our meeting was eerie, really. She offered to act as our agent in England. It was wonderful!”
Young does, however, handpick a large portion of his wares himself. “I was sitting in a café with a friend drinking coffee and eating scones,” smiles Young, pointing to a neat display of tiny booklets. “I saw these regional English cookbooks on the counter, copied down the name of the publisher and purchased some for the store. I sell a lot of those.” In addition to the tastefully illustrated recipes, the cordial Brit carries a range of groceries, teacups, stationary, candles, tins, bar towels, pint mugs, clocks, flasks and even “the world’s best silver polish” — to name but a few goods in this Anglophile’s haven.
When asked what he has observed in his many years in Bavaria’s capital, Young describes the Munich of 1965. “When I first came, the city was still in the post-war throes — bomb ruins and the like. Of course, it was the 1972 Olympic Games that made the most noticeable improvement. The city center was renovated, the U-Bahns built. I had a friend who was the bigshot at Bloomingdale’s when it was still a dimestore. I suggested she visit me in Munich. She said ‘no way, it’s a frumpy old city.’ I talked her into it. She loved it! She was out of her mind at the changes since she’d last been here.”
Young is equally enthralled by his adopted metropolis. “I am proud to live in a city that people from all over the world come to see,” exclaims the transplant. “I should feel very lucky.” Young’s favorite pastime here is undoubtedly frequenting beer gardens in summer. “Augustiner is my favorite, of course!” Though the busy entrepreneur says he has little time after work to pack a meal into some of the snazzy picnic equipment he sells, his thoughtful friends often take care of the Brotzeit. Minding the store, it would seem, is his department.
