For those who haven’t yet heard, David Jones Toombul is now boarded up and closed for trading, signaling the death knell for shopping centres with class. So fond was my grandmother of this particular department store, that I’m sure she would have chained herself and her loyalty card to the Manchester department, were it a socially-acceptable way of protesting its closure.

In its halcyon days, it was hallowed ground where one could fondle fluffy towels, browse haberdashery and nibble on scones in the ladies tea room to the sounds of piano muzak. It harks back to an era when the word ‘Chermside’ meant a sleepy outer suburb, and had not yet become the universal term for ubiquitous consumerism fuelled by cashed up bogans. The idea of Sunday trading was abhorrent and late Thursday night shopping was still a titillating end-of-the week indulgence. Product lines, though not inexpensive, were of genuinely sound quality, offering a more superior alternative to the comparative crap of Myer, or in more recent times, K-Mart and Target.

In fact, rumour has it that David Jones will be replaced by Target Country, though whether it’s because the northside is being mistakenly rezoned as rural, or the demographic truly has changed, is not for certain.

Thanks for the memories David Jones. I'll always remember your ultra-cool green vinyl chairs in the second-flood powder room.