, practically a 12South institution, will close at the end of May.
Proprietor Katy Kattelman, a true pioneer in the neighborhood, opened the clothing store 15 years ago, long before that particular stretch of Granny White Pike was saturated with restaurants, bars and pricey boutiques. Kattelman told the Scene that, after learning that her rent would double if she was to renew her lease after April 30, she knew it was time to close the doors.
"My rent has been raised every year," Kattelman says. "The real estate manager was very good in trying to help me keep it down, but it's still very high for the kind of business I do. I can't afford it now, and I definitely can't afford what it's going to be."
Kattelman says that the building's owners, Martha Thompson and Mary McMillen, have been approached by multiple interested parties grappling for the coveted space in one of the city's hottest neighborhoods. While Kattelman says that Charlie Robin of Robin Realty, the company she directly dealt with as a tenant, did their best to work with her, the building owners have the final say. (Thompson and McMillen, children of the late John McMillan, who Kattelman originally rented from starting in 2000, own several other properties on the block).
Originally, Kattelman was supposed to vacate the building at the end of April, but after prompting from Carmen Jaudon, who runs Closet Case Vintage out of the Katy K shop, asked for an extension. Though her request for a three-month extension was denied — the business heavily depends upon tourist revenue, and summertime is their busiest season — they were given until May 30, though they'll pay a higher rent that month.
Kattelman started her business in Manhattan in the '80s, selling her Western-inspired designs in legendary boutiques like Screaming Mimi’s (where Cyndi Lauper was a shopgirl) and Fiorucci.
"I was doing my own line of Western wear; the '50s, gabardine embroidered shirts — before computer embroidery — and Nashville video people somehow were coming to me for their music videos," she explains, noting that Screaming Mimi's was an incredibly trendy place at the time. "And I thought, there must be some sort of gap if they're coming to New York to get clothes."
Twenty years ago, Kattelman visited a friend in Nashville, and then learned that Screaming Mimi's was losing their lease to Tower Records. That's when she she decided to make the move here.
"I got a place off Music Row, it was like $380 a month, so I could afford to make mistakes," she recalls. "I came in thinking, 'I'm going to do all Western, like I'm doing in New York.' But that didn't work here — people didn't want Western. So I started doing some of the pinup stuff and other things, and I just fell in love with the place, and I stayed."
She opened her namesake shop just a few years later, after seeing a "for rent" sign on what was then an African gift shop, one of the few businesses on Granny White between Wedgewood and Gale Lane.
"Everyone thought I was crazy," she laughs. "It was very dangerous, but it was a big place, and it had a big parking lot all around it, and I said, 'It's a main artery, it's going to happen.' "
Clearly, it did happen. Like any urban pioneer, Kattelman has no shortage of war stories from the early days — such as being robbed seven times, or finding her first crack-cocaine rock on the premise. While she's sad about the end of this era, she's optimistic about what's on the horizon, even if she's not entirely sure what that is.
"I don't know what I'm going to do, but I'm selling everything in here, including that toilet plunger that looks like a rifle," she says, smiling, pointing to the aptly described plunger in the corner of her office in the back of the shop. "I've been doing the same thing for 30 years, fashion-wise. It's Americana, it's '50s, it's rockabilly, it's burlesque. I'm just going to auction off everything and keep my name, and ... I don't know. Maybe open in Detroit, or not open. ... I don't know if I'll have a brick and mortar store again, but probably not in Nashville because I can't afford it. But I will have something as Katy K."
Kattelman says that Katy K's official close date will be May 22, in order to give the auction company a week to settle before the end of the month. Jaudon will keep her Closet Case Vintage outpost open in the Katy K store until May 30. Both hint at some kind of party that last week in May, so keep an eye on their social media pages for more information (or, better yet, stop in the store and buy something — they're still open for business, people). Additionally, Kattelman says that while she doesn't plan to completely leave Nashville — she owns a house in the 12South neighborhood, and still owns a place in New York — she is open to looking at other cities.
"I've been looking at real estate in Detroit, and it's so good — there's so many wonderful shops," she says. "I came here with this romantic view of Nashville, but things change. And that's just the way it is. I don't want to have a pity party, I want to move on and do something else. But it is sad that the people who kind of made the change, and who make people want to come to a neighborhood, they're the ones who leave. And that's not just me."
Kattelman brings up a timely topic. Nashville's growth spurt and subsequent growing pains are raising issues about affordable housing, mass transit, and a rising cost of living that is far outpacing the area's median income. And while residents of It City may enjoy our fame of late, are we truly supporting the businesses that made this city so special? Are we supporting the people who built the community that is suddenly so desirable to the hoards of people who want to move here? And if whatever drew us here — the relatively low cost of metropolitan living, a thriving creative community, the unique mix of grit and glitter that is woven throughout the fabric of the city — disappears, who are we?
"Carmen's made this point on Facebook, that a lot of people give lip service and say, 'Oh, it's so sad that this is closing,' but they don't shop here," Kattelman says.
Kattelman and Jaudon's businesses depended upon tourists who knew the Katy K name from ink in publications including The New York Times, Soho News, Village Voice, Harpers Bazaar, Elle, and, most recently, Sports Illustrated. They regularly pointed shoppers in the right direction of other places to shop, eat, or hang out in the city. But what they lacked was enough support from local shoppers.
"Had we grown with the neighborhood, we'd be fine," Jaudon says softly, tearing up. "But we didn't."
"Sometimes, the universe throws things at you to put you in another direction," Kattelman says, passing Jaudon a tissue box. "I did what I could here. I'm trying to take the knowledge and focus on the wonderful things, like the people that I met in this store, who I wouldn't have met if I hadn't had this store. And the famous people who came in, it was a thrill."
The list is long and illustrious — Jack White brought Pee-wee Herman in a couple of years ago, Kattelman sold Chelsea Clinton a vintage Oscar de la Renta dress while Secret Service agents lingered nearby, Porter Waggoner bought an Elmore James T-shirt, Lenny Kravitz crashed Jaudon's birthday party and bought a silk '70s-era Ritu Kumar dress — but there is one person Kattelman would love to see before the doors officially close on May 30.
"Dolly has never been in!" Kattelman exclaims.
Dolly, you have roughly two months. Please pay these ladies a visit.
