A blast of Cheerio, Cheerio, Cheerio by a group of emotional retail workers provided a fitting farewell to BHS at the weekend.
The surviving staff members at the St Enoch Centre store in Glasgow tried to put a brave face on things as the shutters came down, but their pain was plain for all to see.
And it made me wonder if we would ever see the likes of BHS again.
Lets put this in some context – BHS traded non-stop for almost 90 years.
It survived a World War, celebrated its own silver anniversary in business as the Queen ascended the throne in 1953, set and sustained numerous trends and prospered through the economic ups and downs.
In doing so, BHS became an icon of the UK high street, up there with M&S and John Lewis in the affections of a nation.
When I was a kid, it was the place my gran went for a coffee, cake and a gab with her friends.
It knew its market and played to it.
But even then there was too little investment, too long between stores being refreshed and too much competition for standstill positioning to work in the long-term.
It faded from being a bright star of the high street to a backwater favoured by fewer and fewer people.
In short, BHS lost its appeal – a fashion victim if you will – at a time when other more exciting retail concepts were making a splash on high streets and digital retail began to emerge.
With its huge store estate and thousands of employees, it was clear that something was going to give.
But at BHS’s time of greatest need the leadership required to guide it from the rocks was missing.
The resulting disaster – and I do not use that word lightly – saw the loss of 11,000 jobs, an eye-watering pensions blackhole open up and of one of the great names of British retail disappear.
Debenhams and Markies – both of whom have had their own battles to fight in recent years – are now the only real majors left out there.
With just 45 stores, John Lewis is not comparable in scale and, while there are a number of general merchandising independents still ploughing a furrow, they are few and far between and do not match up in the tale of the tape.
So BHS’s demise is more than just another store closure.
It is a symbolic moment that I fear may well prove to be the beginning of the end for high street department store retailing in the UK.
I would love to be proved wrong in that assessment but I just cannot see anyone being able to successfully bring forward – or sustain – a nationwide bricks and mortar general merchandising operation ever again.
It is a concept that may have had its day as the Amazon’s of this world have made the computer screen the new sales floor.
Coincidentally, BHS closed its doors for the final time on the very day that Are You Being Served arrived back on our screens.
The new sitcom was panned by the critics and one reason I think it fell flat – apart from terrible, cringeworthy gags – is that a department store where the staff are friends with the customers is simply unrelatable to a modern audience that has seldom seen the like.
AYBS was of its time.
And while BHS had a great innings and, like the dearly departed Woolworths before it will be remembered with great affection, its time is also up.
For the loyal staff that gave it such a great send-off in Glasgow and elsewhere, I wish only the best.
The recriminations of BHS’s demise will continue for years to come.
But that will not bring the grand old lady – or the retail concept she stood for – back to life.
I fear that’s gone forever.