While peeking her head above a counter filled with hundreds of books, from mythology and architecture, to art, bestsellers, and philosophy, one unorthodox woman takes on the corporate book industry by putting used books in the hands of her community.
At 47, Melissa Richmond is in the business of selling nostalgia in a neighborhood popular for its high-end posh furniture stores, expensive shoe boutiques and affluent 20-somethings roaming the streets. Beyond her short grayish-brown hair, black jeans and casually unbuttoned t-shirt, a self-proclaimed “no nonsense, utilitarian spirit” manages to match small town vibes and progressive ideas in her shop all at the same time, creating an innovative little used bookstore in San Francisco that reflects the uniqueness of her personality.
After opening shop five years ago, Richmond says her store Bibliohead in Hayes Valley is a channel for her creative spirit, getting people to “stay awake in their brains,” by challenging her costumers to learn about themselves by simply enjoying a good book. Instilled by her parents from a young age, a love of reading and “self education through books” became an escape from a chaotic family life and inspired a 20-year career in the book business.
Raised in New Haven, CT, the daughter of a social worker and a “crazy gay guy,” Richmond says she belonged to a “non-traditional traditional family.” She moved to San Francisco in her late teens and began a new life in the big city.
“I had my career in reverse,” says Richmond chuckling, reminiscing about the days she worked for a major book corporation before deciding to head in a new direction, as the owner of a uniquely non-conforming shop – homemade cardboard category labels stuck in between rows and piles upon piles of unorganized books scattered throughout the store’s quaint reading nooks, all outright poking fun at the Borders and Barnes & Nobles of the world. “Through my career, the book business has changed a lot,” Richmond says.
“People think the book business is dying,” says Richmond, “but think of books as antiques.” As long as she can create an environment inviting people to shop, Richmond says people will want to find something to read, especially a book that provokes emotional reaction, something the Internet or electronic reading devices can’t offer. Smells of age pour over the shop with every turn of a page, irreplaceable product authenticity as far as Richmond is concerned.
Richmond believes her business is contributing to a greater culture and society, even within the one-room confines of her rental space on the block of Gough Street where it intersects Hayes Street. Through her thick-rimmed glasses, Richmond sees value in things others might cast aside. Being in the used book business is not only about recycling novels and encyclopedias, according to the Bibliohead owner, it’s about recycling knowledge. In her eyes, that’s precisely why customers return to her store time and time again. Regulars searching for discount bestsellers bring stacks of their once loved literature to the shop, trading them for someone else’s forgotten wisdom and a warm environment to explore other worlds through words.
“I’m pretty down to earth. I have a ton of stuff you can buy for a dollar,” says Richmond, genuinely excited about her generosity. Bibliohead also has a free book bin, which Richmond says is sometimes checked multiple hours a day by the same people. “I actually get kind of mad. It’s like, leave some for other people!”
These business philosophies only help to increase her sales, even in times of economic recession, says Richmond. “People just want to buy stuff to be out in the world.”
It also doesn’t hurt to sell memories to people clinging to the “good old days” when an economic depression was only a distant event learned about in high school history class. A grandmother’s favorite cookbook or a childhood bedtime story, long out of print and off the selves of huge chain bookstores, can be found in Richmond’s shop with little effort and a lot of fun.
Richmond also contributes to her host community by expressing concern for the neighborhood so willing to shun franchise businesses. Where her small business, like many others in the community can thrive, residents struggle to find hardware or grocery stores within a reasonable distance from their homes. As a resident of Excelsior herself, Richmond may have gravitated to Hayes Valley for business purposes, recognizing potential used book sales in a “slightly alternative, forward thinking” community, but she believes the up-and-coming neighborhood isn’t yet the right place for her to live.
10-foot-tall bookcases lining the walls of Bibliohead, literary artifacts like “Moby Dick” and “Treasure Island” offer Hayes Valley residents and tourists alike a haven for the imagination. Richmond walks by the various sections of her store, hoping her young employees will think of her as “big hearted and cranky all at the same time,” while giving thoughtful instructions on which book should go where in the store.
A fan of art, poetry, fiction and cooking above all other genres, Richmond sees a better future for not only her customers, but for the global community – by selling one used book at a time. And not unlike the lone reading stools placed throughout quiet corners of her shop, Richmond herself ends every day as one individual person swallowed by a sea of possibilities.
For more information on Bibliohead, please visit
http://www.bibliohead.com/
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