Upon entering Wild Oats Health Food Store, a bell rings.
Its dancing chime recalls a familiar sound—that of my childhood apothecary. Yet, I’ve just passed through the door of a different sort of apothecary: food and supplements to prevent or remedy illnesses and be good to yourself. From behind the counter a smile greets me, framed by a shock of black curls.
“Hi, Tammy,” I call over to Tammy Marciano, the independent shop’s owner as I grab a basket and turn to the left aisle. I scan the shelves: various teas, non-perishable food items along the wall, fresh goods behind the glass doors of the fridge.
At the sight of dog food at the end of the aisle, I wonder if I should ask. Over the years, 29 to be precise, Tammy has given me invaluable advice on my and my family’s various health concerns, but—no, I decide, she’s not a vet. With only a jar of local honey in my basket, I end up at the counter.
Tammy looks up. Her warm eyes indicate I have her undivided attention.
“My dogs, both of them, they have fleas,” I say. “A neighbor claims it’s a sure sign they are emotionally out of sorts.” I roll my eyes. She laughs, steps out from behind the counter and grabs a bottle of supplements.
“Garlic powder?” I ask in disbelief.
“It’s a boost for their immune system, a kind of natural antibiotic for people as well as for dogs. And fleas hate the smell. Add some fish oil and nutritional yeast and they’ll bolt.”
“Gee, Tammy, how come you know it all, people and dogs?”
She lifts her hand in a gesture of moderation and smiles.
As long as she can remember her body demanded the next physical challenge. Because of this, Tammy’s mind has always sought the latest insight into the science of health and longevity. After college, she went to work in corporate America, acquiring experience at a database company, the travel industry, and in publishing.
Never one to shy away from long hours and hard work, at the start-up she had joined the endless meetings and the tedious negotiations with software companies stretched her patience. So when her mother, the owner of a hair salon on West Street in downtown Beverly Farms, called to casually mention that the store next door was closing, Tammy knew how to turn passion to profession.
“Mind you”, she says when I asked what it took to buy the store, “this was before phones fit into a pocket. During lunch break I’d go to the basement of the Cambridge office building and negotiate over the pay phone.”
Before long, the lucky neighborhood of Beverly Farms finally got what other stores did not offer: whole grains, dried legumes, local honey, and all kinds of other alternatives to Wonder Bread, sugary cereals, and low-fat everything.
It was 1995, and Tammy’s Wild Oats was ahead of customer trends. The world began to re-discover natural remedies, health maintenance and the relationship between diet and the prevention of illness. Organics started to be big business. Television shows featuring the likes of Dr. Oz and Dr. Hyman became top among viewers. Technology spurred ecommerce shopping, tempting customers to abandon downtown independent shops for the dream of “convenience.” And Amazon went from being an online bookstore to selling EVERYTHING, all at the click of a mouse.
Yet, throughout all these years of changes, Wild Oats continues to survive. How?
“It’s a whole new world.” Tammy nods. “At a chain store a box of Newman’s cookies is offered for $5.99. They have big accounts and can negotiate margins. To make a decent profit I should charge $7.99, but I want to keep my reputation for offering decent prices, so I don’t charge $7.99.”
Other changes have posed challenges. Small producers of high-quality dietary and herbal supplements get bought up by bigger companies. Many bigger companies skip third-party testing, a process by which external, independent laboratories test the quality, purity, and safety of products without vested interest in the outcome.
Nature’s Plus, for instance, a producer and supplier of health products, has a policy that benefits small businesses: no one should sell their products for lower than 15 percent of the retail price. Yet, here and there, a third-party seller on Amazon offers, let’s say, the company’s Fish Oil for 50 percent of the retail price. At the sight of such a great deal, an Amazon customer might gleefully click the “Buy Now” button. But how long has this product been sitting on a shelf? How long has it been stored in a warehouse? And what did those conditions do to the carefully third-party tested product.
“Maybe you should sell on Amazon,” I naively suggest.
Eyebrows raised; Tammy bursts my bubble. She tells me she once ran an experiment selling gift bags with organic coffees, teas, honey sticks and a cute drinking cup on Amazon. But after subtracting all of the company’s fees for storage, shipping and advertisement, not even adding the hours it takes to meet Amazon’s elaborate labeling and shipping requirements, she was left with a depressingly tiny profit that was not worth the trouble.
With a voice barely disguising my growing dread, I ask: “Then, how do you manage to stay open?”
“Luckily”, Tammy says, “I love what I’m doing, and I love this community. Luckily, I built a loyal customer base way before Amazon came into the picture. They come from all over: Hamilton, Wenham, Manchester. I always start by asking lots of questions, and my customers come back teaching me what worked and what didn’t.” She pauses. “And what’s true for life is true for running a business: change remains the only constant. Remember COVID-19 with its shortage of toilet paper and hand sanitizers?”
How could I forget?
For once, it turned out, her small business had the upper hand: suppliers could deliver her orders but not the chain stores’ huge demands. I smile as my memory projects the image of long rows of paper bags lining the curb in front of Wild Oats. When a customer like me called, Tammy would step out, open the trunk and load up what supermarkets couldn’t provide.
Tammy’s arm describes a circle along the walls of her store filled to the brim with goods. “As long as the food industry grows hybridized wheat, sprays it with glyphosate”—an herbicide used to control weeds and grasses—“making some of us gluten-sensitive, I’m needed; and as long as pharma, med schools and overloaded doctors offer quick fixes, I’m in business..”
I think of those juggling a demanding job, a long commute, and a family to care for.
“No, doubt,” Tammy nods. “I am often tired by the time I get home. We’re surrounded by marketing that makes highly processed food seem the norm. That’s why kids should learn in schools how real food looks like and how to cook it. We need to re-learn basic, easy to make but yummy meals.”
The bell above the store door jingles again in its antique apothecary way. I step aside because this customer’s eyes are searching for Tammy, and receive the same attentive look I was granted earlier. Retreating to the back of the store I catch only fragments of their conversation. Tammy asks lots of questions about his rheumatoid arthritis, and points to studies that show, cutting out dairy and gluten plus a daily routine of mild exercises, reduce symptoms.
I leave with the means to declare war on my dogs’ fleas, local honey, and a few bags of unsweetened organic mango slices, a small pleasure which she offers for much less than Whole Foods.
And now, two days later, I am happy to report success. The unwelcome tenants in my dogs’ fur have vanished. Next time I visit the store, I’ll suggest renaming it: Wild Oats Health Food for Dogs & People.
Christiane Alsop is a writer and a resident of Beverly Farms.
