The Possibilities in a Repurposed Mall

Last day of camp pic in front of the Marshalls turned adventure camp at Portland’s Lloyd Center Mall

In July, my son spent two glorious weeks in an outdoor adventure camp. The kind of camp made for apocalypse preparedness where he spent hours in the woods building shelters, learning archery, covering himself with charcoal as camouflage, and tracking dinosaurs. He was hooked on all of it and I was thrilled that he was building some wilderness skills that may just help him survive the apocalypse. But mostly I was thrilled that he had a blast just doing fun things in the woods. Alas, that’s not what this story is about. What it is about and what’s inspired this is where the kid’s adventures began and ended. 

The “base camp” as the camp calls it where parents drop off and pick up their kids each day, from where buses pick the kids up and take them out in the wods, is at a mall. A former Marshalls store in that mall, to be exact. In fact, the Marshalls sign remains in place. But when you enter through the automatic sliding doors, you’re not confronted with racks of clothes. No, what you see is a completely cleared out space with various art and tumbling stations on the perimeters, and some racks of clothes of the camp’s merchandise. But the action is down the stairs to camp dropoff. There, along with make-shift stations where your kids group will convene during dropoff and pickup there is also a full archery range and an ax throwing station. And one day I picked Finch up from camp, one of his counselors was demonstrating how to create sparks from a ferro rod onto a puff of fluffy cedar sitting on a metal plate. The kids craned their necks in, rapt. 

This camp-in-a-mall scene was straight out of my utopian apocalyptic dreams. 

I was so taken in by the transformation of this former center of capitalism-in-bargain-clothing-and-home-goods form turned adventure camp that I felt compelled to dive in more. And so on Finch’s last day of this camp, I promised him we’d “explore the mall” after I picked him up that day.

Lloyd Center mall — not exactly the bustling center of commerce it once was

The mall in question, Portland’s famed Lloyd Center Mall with the year-round ice skating rink wherein Tonya Harding got her start as a figure skater, has been in considerable decline over the years. Over the last few years, the mall slowly lost the large anchor stores, the last of which, Macy’s, closed in 2021, effectively hammering in the nail of the coffin of the Lloyd Center’s former glory. The glory I speak of is one not unlike that depicted in vivid 1980s, neon-hued, teenager’s playground fashion of the Starcourt Mall at the center of Season 3 of Stranger Things. Over the years of decline, the subject of what to do with the Lloyd Center, has been a hot topic of conversation in Portland. With any expanse like that, the very large 30-acre piece of land on which Lloyd Center sits in the middle of the city, there’s bound to be conversations about how to better use that space.

The recent iteration of the Lloyd Center–the one in which I glimpsed just from dropping my kid off at the new mall anchor of sorts in the form of an adventure camp–was covered in a recent OPB story that details the most recent conversion of the space. That conversion is that of an intentionally local bend. I had heard of this transformation of the mall for some time, particularly the branding proclaiming the space “Lloyd Local” with the tagline “reimagining community.” Friends who had visited the LEGO or comic book stores told tales of a completely different, if bizarre, space Lloyd Center has become. 

And so, I wanted to see this transformation for myself. My promise to Finch to explore the mall after his last day of camp was as much for myself as it was him. My apocalyptic fantasies had been piqued by the Marshalls transformation, what else could the mall hold?

What the mall held was, indeed, bizarre. At first, I wondered if the transformation was all talk. Where we entered led to a corridor of completely closed-up shops. But as you walk toward the center of the mall, which still holds the very functioning ice rink, there seemed to be much more life. If not in the form of hordes of patrons, at least in the forms of very well stocked, unique, and mostly local shops. There were the aforementioned LEGO and comic book shops, a magic shop, a vintage shop, a sustainable goods store, and a variety of other local businesses.

Where I lingered most–to the annoyance of my son who had his eye on the video games–was at the former Loft storefront where the front windows and the locked gate held a display by The Braided River Campaign which is a group of activists and artists bringing awareness to land use along the Willamette River. The Lloyd Center display gave a snapshot of the history of the river, beginning, of course, with a land acknowledgment and honoring of the Indigenous peoples who stewarded the land. I couldn’t really take in the display as much as I would have liked with a six-year-old tugging at my hand and with increasing urgency exclaiming “Mommy. Come. On!” But living not far from this mall, I knew there were opportunities to come back.

Part of the Braided River Campaign display at the abandoned Loft store (scroll down for more photos of the spaces)

And so Finch and I moved on and partook in the things that malls offer. We got ourselves a blizzard from the lone food purveyor in the mostly abandoned food court, the joint DQ-Orange Julius. Finch played video games as I took in the remnants of the old mall in the form of the Forever 21, the Barnes and Noble, the Auntie Anne’s, the Game Stop, the wafts of Cinnabon, and the Claire’s (my tweenage jewelry go-to). Most of these traditional mall locales were clustered by the main entrance.

The last time I had truly spent time in the mall was also on a very hot Portland day when Finch was a tiny baby, almost exactly six years ago. Several mom-friends and I, decided to escape our un-air-conditioned homes by spending the hottest part of a 100+ degree day roaming the blessedly cool air-conditioning of the mall. We got some Jamba Juice and sat at the busy food court, did laps around the endless circle a mall offers, and took in all the commerce if not actually participating in it. My recent post-camp visit with six-year-old Finch was a far cry from that visit. There were very few patrons and the abandoned sections of the mall just felt eerie. But the well-designed storefronts of those local businesses offered a glimpse into reenvisioning a space like this of the future. There was something hopeful in what’s happening there. 

As we left the air conditioning into the very hot Portland summer, it occurred to me that what is happening at the Lloyd Center is perhaps what will happen to the places of commerce and capitalism as our world changes. It’s a symbol of the fact that these things do not last. But in its current transformation, Lloyd Center is a reminder that we humans are quite creative and adaptable. The local businesses popping up, the storefronts being utilized by non-profits and activists, and even an abandoned Victoria Secret being used as a theater venue just shows what we can do when we think beyond what a space was originally intended for. 

The OPB story acknowledges that a base camp for young archers and foragers and adventurers isn’t going to save the Lloyd Center by itself. And the story alludes to unknown plans in the works by the mall owners. But for now, I’m excited to continue to go back, to see this localized transformation, and to hopefully see more people doing the same. And with each visit, I will revel in our adaptability and creativity that is at the heart of our resilience. All important in the apocalypse.

Some mall shops just endure

More of the Braided River Campaign display

Art by Larry Peace-Love Yes