Singapore’s Souvenir Scene Faces a Sweet (and Sour) Loss
More than 20 beloved souvenir shops across Singapore have closed permanently, polishing their doors for the last time as Covid‑19 travel restrictions take another bite. While dozens of stalls have already slammed shut, the future looks bleak for the rest.
The Toll on the Tourist Trade
Visitor numbers plummeted to a meager 2,200 in June, down from over 1.6 million last year. April saw just 750 visits, and May only 880. That’s a staggering drop that has trickled straight into the cash registers of souvenir shops.
When the Store’s Clock Stops
- Some shops in vibrant spots like Chinatown and Bugis Street are busy—literally—on the streets, but empty inside.
- “No customers, no sales, no joy,” said Mr. Joe Chen, founder of the Singapore Souvenir Centre. He warns that 90 % of these niche shops could fold within the next six months if help doesn’t come.
- In Bugis, shop owner Alice Leow (67) has “zero business” and is not ordering stock since March. She’s contemplating closing the doors forever.
- Some outlets are forced to cut hours—e.g., a Lucky Plaza stall on Orchard Road now opens from 13:00 to 21:00 instead of a full 8‑hour day.
- Others pivot to survival hacks: selling face masks or trimming staff wages.
The Stay‑Fresh Strategy
With tourists a distant dream, souvenir sellers are predicting a dire future: “If tourism doesn’t resume, these shops will disappear wholesale,” murmurs a senior vendor. Yet the emotional attachment to Singapore’s charm remains strong.
From Merlion Zeros to Mochi Dreams
Whether it’s Merlion chocolate, quirky Singapore T‑shirts, kebaya tops, mugs, magnets, keychains, wallet, or tote bags featuring iconic sights, each item carries a slice of memories. Now they sit idle, rumoured to be the silent witnesses to a vanished tourist era.
When the Cold Days Get a Little Hot
Despite an orderly cutback, the culture of responsibility lingers: contractual obligations keep many shops arguing to stay open, even as foot traffic drops to single digits.
And so, Singapore’s souvenir market awaits the decision: whether travelers will return, or these shops will fade, one morning at a time.
Rezqi Collection’s Final Countdown
Irene Anthony and her sister‑in‑law Helen Anthony are giving their last wave at the shop on Pagoda Street. The little boutique, once full of dream‑like prints and ticking clocks, will close its doors by the end of the month, a casualty of the after‑shock from COVID‑19.
What’s happening?
- The store will close end‑of‑month.
- Just two sisters are operating back‑to‑back sales – the tiny shop lost the sales boost it relied on.
- The pandemic’s lingering effects have cut supply chains and trickled down to the last sale each day.
Why it matters
Rezqi Collection was never just a shop, it was a loft of creativity, where every item whispered a story. Their closure signals a bigger wave – when smaller, off‑the‑radar boutiques feel the crunch of pandemic‑fueled economics.
What to say goodbye with
“It’s like putting a bow on a song that’s run out of lyrics. We’re sad, but we’re proud of the runs we’ve had – thanks for dancing with us.” – Irene
Shot credit
ST photo by Lim Yaohui
HEARTBREAKING
Chinatown’s Souvenir Shops Facing a Quiet Crisis
In a recent interview, Mr. Chen said, “We had plans for more outlets and services, but those have since been put on hold.” His words echo a wider slowdown sweeping the once‑busy Chinatown.
Where the crowds went
Last week, the district that used to be a magnet for tourists felt eerily empty. “It’s heartbreaking,” says Ms. Cindy Zhao, who has shut three out of her four shops.
Owning four outlets meant paying roughly $20,000 a month for each location—an expense that no longer makes sense when foot traffic has plummeted.
Shop Snapshot
- Orchid Chopsticks – a 50‑year‑old owner juggling goods from one shop to another. It sells chopsticks, fans, and other quirky souvenirs.
- The Tintin Shop – after a decade of selling comic‑book memorabilia, it’s closing this month. It used to welcome 200–300 visitors daily, mostly tourists before the pandemic.
- Rezqi Collection – a once‑popular store selling fabrics and jewellery, also offering tailoring services. Its monthly rent is around $11,000.
- Lucky Gift House – a 54‑year‑old boutique with a shoestring boss, Madam Yu, who’s seen the shop bleed money for the past six months.
In Bits & Pieces
Ghost‑town vibes dominate the area. Gabriel Tan, 33, describes the view: “It’s a miracle to see 10 people. Having the air‑conditioning on makes no sense.” Meanwhile, Madam Helen Anthony, 53, claims even the weekends are quiet, making the business unsustainable.
Some shop owners note the role of government support. “We would not have lasted this long without wage support and rental rebates,” one says. But many still wonder if the pandemic will hit them for good.
Keeping the Doors (and the Cash) Open
To survive, shopkeepers have adopted bold tactics:
- Offering discounts of at least 30 %.
- Listing rare collectibles they’d never sold before.
- “It feels like we are giving parts of the shop away,” says Mr. Tan.
Some are willing to “bet against the market,” hoping the world will return to normal when the time is right.
Take‑away
“We’re just taking it one day at a time,” says Madam Yu. “We have no idea how long this will last,” she adds. The story remains unfinished, but one thing’s clear: the surge in rent, the drop in tourists, and the decline of foot traffic are making a big dent in Chinatown’s retail scene.
