Macy’s Closes Another Store in Texas, Proves That ‘Bold New Chapter’ Is Just Corporate for ‘We’re Out of Ideas’

In a shocking turn of events that absolutely no one saw coming, Macy’s—the last bastion of retail where your grandma could still buy a sensible sweater—has announced yet another round of store closures. This time, the victim is a Corpus Christi location, which, let’s be honest, was probably only kept alive by the sheer willpower of confused tourists looking for air conditioning and a place to sit down.

Macy’s CEO Tony Spring, in a bold display of corporate jargon, declared this move part of their "Bold New Chapter" initiative. Because nothing says "bold" like shutting down stores faster than a crypto bro abandons his NFT collection. "We’re reinvigorating relationships with our customers," Spring said, presumably while standing in an empty store, surrounded by unsold "I ♥ NY" t-shirts and perfume samples from 2012.

The Corpus Christi location, originally a Foley’s, has been rebranded so many times it’s basically the retail equivalent of a witness protection program. And now, it’s joining the ranks of other fallen Texas Macy’s, like the ones in Southlake and Flower Mound—towns where the only thing more dead than the department stores are the souls of the people who shop there.

But fear not, shareholders! Macy’s is "accelerating its path to market share gains," which is corporate-speak for "we’re closing stores so fast we might accidentally reinvent the concept of not existing." The company proudly announced its best earnings in three years, proving that if you fire enough people and board up enough windows, even a sinking ship can look buoyant for a quarter or two.

Meanwhile, Texas still has 31 Macy’s clinging to life, including two in Austin—because apparently, even in a city where people would rather drink kombucha than wear pants, there’s still a market for overpriced bedding and confused middle-aged men wandering the cologne aisle.

So farewell, Corpus Christi Macy’s. You were a place where dreams went to die, where sales associates sighed louder than the air conditioning, and where the only thing "bold" was the decision to keep the lights on this long. Rest in retail peace.