Ed Davidson's Bivouac: Trendy AND Down-to-Earth

Ed Davidson's Bivouac: Trendy AND down-to-earth

By CONSTANCE CRUMP

NEWS FASHION WRITER 

JUL 10 1984

Ed Davidson started out in the surplus business 12 years ago.

“When I look at what’s on the racks this year, I’m back in the surplus business,” the 35-year-old owner of The Bivouac jokes.

The Bivouac began in 1971 in a tiny three room apartment above Campus Bike and Toy. In 1972, it moved downstairs and next door, into retail space in Maynard House. A year later, the operation shifted again to Nickels Arcade where it occupies the former home of P.J.’s Restaurant. Originally, the Farmers and Mechanics Bank occupied The Bivouac’s pole position on State Street.

Instead of tellers and loan officers, the ex-bank employs haberdashers who disperse casual fashion clothing for both genders, camping gear, even tours to remote and rugged destinations.

“The distressed leather, washed fabrics, denim jackets with mixed fabrications have a rugged Indiana Jones look that’s the trendy part the store,” Davidson says. “But the people who really are the Indiana Joneses of Ann Arbor shop my store, too. We see both ends of the marketplace.”

The first floor at The Bivouac is devoted to fashion. On the men's side are casual but fashion-forward lines and classics including Willi Smith, Generra, Guess, C.P. Shades, Boston Traders, Patagonia, Lee Jeans, Ruff Hewn and Marithe and Francois Girbaud.

"I try to find new designers, stay with innovative companies,” Davidson says. “The bigger somebody gets, the less innovative they are. I’m a specialty shop and the innovative market is a small one.”

“It’s hard to describe exactly what the store’s image is,” he comments. “It’s fun clothing, updated, experimental, relaxed, comfortable, mostly natural fiber. My price point goes from Levis at $17.99 all the way up to $80 for a pair of Guess jeans.”

Styles range from Willi Smith’s elegant and laid back summer sportswear in muted dark cottons and linens to The Bivouac’s signature sweatshirts and t-shirts of a 1984 Ann Arbor postmark in screaming brights on a white ground.

Ed Davidson changed with his clientele.

Women’s clothing hangs out in the space formerly rented by Saks Fifth Avenue. “I added women’s clothing when men started dressing up more,” Davidson remembers. “Surplus had been unisex.”

The women's side includes lines like Norma Kamali, Click Point, Esprit, Triangles, East of Canton, Bern Conrad, Ambience and WilliWear by Willi Smith. Until recently, Candescence, a fashion shoe store at Briarwood, maintained a State Street branch at The Bivouac. Davidson is looking for a replacement shoe concession.

In the loft overlooking menswear, camping gear and outdoor clothing complete the store’s selection.

“Lots of technology developments are coming about in camping gear,” Davidson observes. “I have to keep on top of the market. Unlike the fashion clothes, there are trade shows and publications to help you. And there aren’t that many companies - Thinsulate, Gortex.”

“I think the different areas complement each other,” Davidson says. “A customer who has worn only Levis for 10 years and comes in for a down jacket might see something that makes him say, ‘I don’t really like fashion, but that’s not bad.’”

The youthful staff is largely drawn from campus. Salesman Jack Folbe likes the clientele, mostly fellow students. “I enjoy selling the clothes because they’re clothes I like wearing. It’s easier to sell something you like. There’s enough of a selection so the customer isn’t cornered into one product,” Folbe says.

Davidson moved to Ann Arbor in 1971, the ink barely dry on his history-major diploma from University of Iowa.

“I had hair down to my shoulders and didn’t wear anything but army surplus,” he recalls. “I was a product of the Revolution. I opened the store with surplus and camping equipment. As the mood of campus changed, I changed with it. It was easier for me than for some merchants. because I was going through the same changes as my customer. I have 15 times the inventory I had when I first started.”

Now pressed, groomed and short-haired, Davidson doesn’t look very revolutionary any more. He’s expanding his lines to attract other no-longer-revolutionary baby-boomers.

“My biggest problem is that lots of people in Ann Arbor think I’m still a camping store. I don’t want to lose my student customers, but there’s plenty there for professional people, too,” he says.