A Eulogy for Whole Foods

I knew right when it happened that Amazon’s acquisition of Whole Foods would be the end of an all-time run. One can’t help but draw a parallel to when a 34 year old Kobe Bryant blew out his Achilles. Everyone wanted to believe he would come back the same, but deep down, we all knew. It was over.

To be clear, there is no hate in my heart towards Amazon. I am a prime member and that two day shipping has saved me more times than I can count when the Holidays come around. It has been a godsend at times.

However, I knew that their data-driven approach that puts consistency and profit over everything would not mesh with everything I had come to know and love about the Whole Foods culture.

Prime Whole Foods, early 2000s to 2014, doesn’t get the respect it deserves. It’s something I feel bad that kids today will never have the chance to experience. Every store you went to had a unique feel and had a personal touch that was a reflection of the local community and the team members.

When I would travel or be in a new city, I’d do my best to get to the Whole Foods there just to see what the vibe was. You could get a feel for what a city was like. Different produce, different meats, different niche brands that you couldn’t find anywhere else, different food at the hot bar, different local merchants, etc. It was the ideal mix of brand familiarity with what felt like a local co-op grocery store.

I will never forget the Whole Foods in Hillcrest, San Diego and their $5 brussel sprouts happy hour. My college roommate and I were living in there in 2014. We got to know the servers, coffee and juice bar workers, employees working the checkout registers, etc. I need to shout out Nancy, who was a server at the restaurant in the back. We’d walk in and she’d shoot us a big smile and point at us while saying “brussel sprouts?” She’d inquire about our lives, ask how our classes were going and just take a genuine interest in us.

My roommate got a Whole Foods hat from a friend he made at the juice bar that turned out to be too small for his head so he gave it to me...it was also too small for my head also, but I wore it with so much pride. “Y’all don’t have a Whole Foods Hillcrest hat!? Couldn’t be me!!”

We returned in 2019, and I’m sure you can guess. No brussel sprouts happy hour. No restaurant in the back. No familiar faces, and worst of all, no Nancy.

Walking into a Whole Foods today feels almost no different than walking into any other national grocery store. There is no character. There is no local community feel. Everything is the same as it is at every other Whole Foods. The niche local brands seemed to have disappeared entirely from the shelves. They have seemed to stop the war they were waging on GMOs.

Perhaps this is just anecdotal evidence, but the employees don’t seem to enjoy being there like they used to. People used to take pride in the fact that they worked at Whole Foods.

I used to get inspired walking into a Whole Foods. “What cool new snacks, brands, drinks, or hot bar items am I gonna find today!?” Now, I just get sad. It reminds me of that band or artist that you grew up loving when they are coming up. They are young and hungry, and speak to you and your soul, but then they have that hit album or get that big record deal, and they just aren’t relatable anymore. They lost the hunger and the fire… But maybe that’s just the way life goes.

I’m glad the founder, John Mackey, got his bag. Big J deserves it. But at the same time, I can’t help but yearn for the days of the golden age of Whole Foods. It is something that may never be duplicated.