A pyramid can be the strongest shape humans know how to build. Load-bearing. Enduring.
It also can be a scheme — something that looks solid from the top down but collapses when the base proves hollow.
At one time, the shopping mall was a pyramid in the best sense of the word. At its base were dozens of smaller retailers and services. Above were restaurants and entertainment. At the peak sat the department store — the draw, the reason the whole structure worked.
And if the mall was the marketplace, for many, Macy’s was the pinnacle.
That model no longer functions by default. It’s not because department stores failed but because the ground beneath them shifted. Retail habits changed. Entertainment fragmented. The idea of a single, shared commercial commons all but died.
Macy’s has recognized that reality. Its “A Bold New Chapter” strategy, announced in 2024, is not a concession to dollar-store culture but a lean toward something sleeker and luxurious. The company is investing where it still makes sense — and pulling back where it does not.
That distinction is like a mannequin in a storefront window in Western Pennsylvania.
At Pittsburgh Mills in Frazer, Macy’s is closing — not as an isolated corporate decision but as the predictable outcome of a mall that has been allowed to erode. Storefronts sit dark. Infrastructure has deteriorated. The vast interior echoes like an empty canyon. There is no luxury left there. There are barely price tags at all.
A department store is a destination. It can’t be when the destination itself has vanished.
Westmoreland Mall tells a different story.
There, Macy’s still has the option of being the luxury — a place to browse after dinner, to shop after a good night at the slots, to make a purchase that feels like an occasion rather than a transaction.
That is not just a Macy’s choice. It’s the reflection of a mall that has begun pivoting toward a new mixed-use reality, one that understands entertainment, dining and retail as interdependent.
Architecturally, the difference matters.
If anchor stores are treated as pillars — each holding up a portion of a mall — losing one strategic support can turn retail into ruin. But if a modern mall is conceived as a pyramid, with major components leaning into one another, the loss of a single angle does not necessarily bring everything down.
That is the opportunity Westmoreland Mall still has — and Pittsburgh Mills squandered.
None of this guarantees permanence. The fact that collapse of malls came several decades after the similar collapse of many Main Streets proves that.
The future of other Macy’s locations remains uncertain — including at Monroeville Mall, where Walmart has purchased the property and redevelopment plans remain shrouded. Walmart and Macy’s are at opposite ends of the retail spectrum, but both have survived by understanding their role in a broader ecosystem.
The common thread is not brand or price point. It is adaptability.
Retailers are no longer propping up failing structures out of loyalty or symbolism. They are responding to conditions shaped by land-use decisions, enforcement, reinvestment and ownership accountability. Where those elements are missing, even the strongest design fails.
A pyramid is only as strong as what supports it.
Macy’s has a plan for its future. Whether places such as Pittsburgh Mills ever rebuild the foundation needed to support one is a question no department store can answer for them.