On 19 October, Retail Gazette reported that United Colors of Benetton had closed its flagship at 89 Oxford Street, London. The store the brand launched in 2018 as «the ultimate brand experience» bows out with a paper sign taped to the glass: clearance up to 70% off, «shop online at benetton.com» and «Back soon in London». Eight years of LED arches, touchscreen tables and a lounge full of design magazines, summed up on a single sheet. So let me ask, with all the love in the world: what was all that LED actually for?

I’m not here to dance on anyone’s grave. Benetton hasn’t publicly explained the closure and it is in the middle of a restructuring. I’m here to talk about a habit I’ve watched this industry indulge for more than 25 years: mistaking visual merchandising for set dressing. Spending the budget on making the store impressive and assuming that, if it impresses, it will sell. Because that same week, a figure came out that sums it up better than any opinion of mine: stores score 93% on presentation and 37% on closing the sale.
What the Oxford Street flagship was (and why in 2018 it looked like the future)
It opened on 15 March 2018, next to Tottenham Court Road station. According to Benetton Group’s press release and Design Week, it covered around 1,500 square metres over three floors linked by a loop staircase, designed by the brand’s own retail design department. Outside, a counter-facade of 12-metre arches clad in LED screens showing content from Fabrica, Benetton’s creative centre. Inside, wood, iron and stone, a lounge with books and design magazines, touchscreen tables to browse the full collection, and a «knitwear theatre» where staff presented the knitwear that made the brand famous. The company itself said the store went «beyond the traditional idea of a shop».

The awkward part: some of the ideas were very good
I have to be honest here, because the easy thing would be to laugh at the LED and move on. That project had two decisions I argue for in every audit: a space where store staff explain the hero product, and payment points spread across the floor instead of a till with a queue at the back. On paper, it was a flagship designed to sell. And it has still closed. That’s the lesson that interests me: design proposes, but product, team, footfall and rent dispose. A spectacular store doesn’t make up for a brand losing revenue. It just makes it more expensive to keep open.
A flagship is not a business plan
Benetton’s numbers, per Retail Gazette: revenue of £689 million in 2025, down 13% on the year before, and a net loss of £29 million, against £87 million in 2024 and £204 million in 2023. CEO Claudio Sforza, in the job since June 2024, is shrinking the store network, cutting ties with underperforming wholesale and franchise partners and simplifying the business to get back to break-even in 2026. The brand is improving its numbers by dropping dead weight. And a three-floor flagship store on London’s most expensive street is a lot of dead weight if sales don’t pay the rent.
It isn’t a one-off. On the same street, HMV will leave its store in March 2027 after the landlord proposed doubling the rent and demanded substantial investment in the building, and that, the retailer says, «despite strong sales growth». Oxford Street no longer forgives square metres that are only there to be looked at. And look at the farewell sign: «shop online». When the flagship goes, the brand stays on the website. If your physical store doesn’t do something the website can’t, nobody misses it the day it closes.
Screens stop people. They don’t convert them
Read the list again: 12-metre LED arches, touchscreen tables, lounge. It’s the 2018 flagship shopping list. We all built it, we all sold it, we all got into the magazines. The trouble with a screen is that it stops you on the pavement and then asks you nothing. No touchscreen table knows what occasion the jumper is for, or fetches the size that’s missing. A person does that. And people are the first budget line cut once the store has already spent its money on impressing.






