The store with the daisy: my brief affair with Gottschalks

Gottschalks always felt like a retail mystery to me—one of those strange blips on the department store timeline. Though the name had long been known in the Central Valley since 1904, it didn’t make its curious debut in the Bay Area until 1989. And when it did, it raised a few questions: What is a Gottschalks? How do you even say it? And why does their logo have a daisy on it? Was this a store or a gardening catalog?

Naturally, I had to investigate.

Their first Bay Area store bloomed quietly at Antioch’s Somersville Towne Center—though back then, it was still clinging to the name County East Mall. Freshly remodeled with enough mirrored ceilings to make Narcissus himself swoon, the mall looked ready for a new era. As for the new anchor? Well… meh. It was fine. It had clothes, cosmetics, cookware—but this was 1989, and department stores were already starting to either evolve or unravel. Gottschalks didn’t quite scream “future.” It barely whispered “present.”

Still, I was told by more than one shopper-in-the-know: the better the area, the better the store.

That logic brought me to Capitola, where Gottschalks opened another location that felt like a time capsule. The store itself seemed stuck in the 1980s, and I mean that in the best way. Mauve accents, geometric shapes, and a domed skylight bright with ambition. It wasn’t my scene exactly, but I was charmed nonetheless.

By 1994, Gottschalks pushed further north into Sacramento, planting a flag at the oddly quiet Country Club Plaza—a mall so modest it barely pinged the radar. It felt random. And to this day, I think it was the only Gottschalks I ever saw in that region.

Gottschalks at Country Club Plaza.

Then came 1997, a rough year for Bay Area mall lovers still nursing the loss of Emporium-Capwell. So when Gottschalks opened at Santa Rosa’s Coddingtown Mall—replacing a gloomy Macy’s Clearance Center that had overstayed its welcome—it felt like a small win. Sure, it was no Emporium, but at least someone turned the lights on.

Stores come and go so quickly here. Liberty House, Macy's Clearance Center, Gottschalks, now Target.

And then, in 1999, Gottschalks made a move that still has me scratching my head: they opened a store in Blackhawk Plaza. Yes, that Blackhawk. Danville fancy. The mall had just lost a Saks Fifth Avenue after less than a year, and here comes Gottschalks, all daisyed-up, stepping in like it belonged next to art galleries and boutiques. The locals weren’t exactly thrilled. This wasn’t Bonwit Teller, after all. But I went. And yes, they carried Waterford Crystal. So, not exactly bargain basement. Still, the vibe was off, and I didn’t go back. The store closed in 2006 and few noticed, really.

As the 2000s rolled in, so did the financial headlines: acquisitions, lawsuits, expansion plans. Gottschalks eventually grew to 80 stores across six western states. Impressive, really. But trouble loomed. In 2009, the company filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy. They couldn’t find a buyer. By July that year, all the stores were gone—liquidated and shuttered, just like that.

Looking back, Gottschalks never quite made my mall rotation. It didn’t have the draw of Macy’s, the charm of Emporium, or even the wild-card energy of a Sears appliance department. But I’ll always remember that daisy on the logo. There was something hopeful about it. Soft. Slightly out of place. But memorable all the same.

And in the end, maybe that’s exactly what Gottschalks was. A store slightly out of place, but one I’m glad I wandered into—at least once.

Scott Parsons