In my backyard, cosplayers point the way forward in urban renaissance

For over a decade, Xujiahui, one of Shanghai's most historically storied and commercially vibrant neighborhoods, has been home to me. I've watched its seasons change, its malls open and fade, its foot traffic swell and slow.

Yes indeed, there is a lot one can learn about the city's future by looking around your own backyard.

Twenty years ago, Xujiahui was the crown jewel of Shanghai's retail scene – a fashion-forward hub defined by shopping landmarks like Metro City, Grand Gateway 66, Pacific Department Store, No. 6 Department Store and the ever-busy Orient Shopping Center.

It was a place where teenagers shopped for the latest fads, where families met for weekend outings and where tourists marveled at the city's neon.

But time, like urban skylines, changes.

Over the last several years, Xujiahui has begun to feel … well … a bit old. The retail venues once hailed as trendsetters became indistinguishable from one another, populated more by clearance racks than serious shoppers. One by one, the icons of my neighborhood started disappearing or undergoing facelifts.

The Pacific Department Store shut down and is being reimagined. No. 6 Department Store was demolished to make way for new development. The Orient Shopping Center is next in line for renovation.

Even as sleek new malls like One ITC and Two ITC opened nearby, they catered mostly to luxury brands and high-end clientele, sites that brim with aspiration but often lack the gravitational pull on the youth culture.

On weekends, I began to take informal "headcounts" as I strolled nearby streets. Out of every 10 pedestrians I passed, at least six were middle-aged or older. The retail pulse had slowed with age, its beat more nostalgic than novel.

The harbinger of cosplayers

Then, suddenly and unmistakably, something changed.

On a recent weekend, I spotted a group of teenagers in full cosplay outfits – bright wigs, outlandish attire and colored contact lenses – as they struck poses in front of the newly opened TPY Mall next to Metro City.

At first, I thought it might be a one-off fan gathering or an advertising stunt, but week after week, the trickle of cosplayers turned into a stream.

It turned out that TPY had opened an immersive escape room experience styled entirely around the culture of anime and games.

The entire mall was transformed to a portal into a different world. Posters of beloved characters lined the walls, collectible merchandise teemed on every corner, and fan meet-ups became commonplace. Even Metro City, once defined by electronics stores and gadget kiosks, joined the transformation, carving out venues for cosplay cafés and game-themed installations.

Xujiahui, it seems, was getting younger again – not just in clientele, but also in spirit.

This reinvention is more than just a marketing pivot. It reflects a broader urban trend unfolding across China and beyond. Cities are racing to capture the imagination of Gen Z and younger millennials, the lifeblood of future commerce.

This group is interested in more than just shopping. It seeks identity, experience and community. The rise of a mini-economy based on digital worlds, immersive experiences and fandom is a powerful force, and Xujiahui is finally tapping into it.

But let's not be na?ve. This renaissance comes with complexities.

Challenges ahead

The resurgence of the youth culture in Xujiahui is both exhilarating and instructive, serving as reminder that urban vitality is not achieved through mere renovation projects. It springs, rather, from cultural relevance and emotional resonance.

As with any transformation, this shift raises important questions. Chief among them: Can an area truly reinvent itself without alienating its long-standing identity and core demographics? Can commercial developments bank on Gen Z without falling into the trap of superficial trend-chasing?

Let's begin with the most visible shift – the aesthetic transformation. Malls like the new TPY Mall have fully embraced erciyuan (二次元), or the two-dimensional pop culture universe drawn from the worlds of anime, manga and gaming.

Venues are no longer just retail outlets; they are themed environments with immersive installations, character cafés and pop-up events timed with gaming releases or streaming drama premieres.

The appeal is obvious. In a digital-first world where attention is the new currency, these built-for-Instagram experiences give young consumers a reason to show up.

But here's the catch: Attention can be fickle.

We've seen similar youth-oriented trends in other parts of Shanghai rise and fall with the tide of Internet trends. The original TX Huaihai was heralded as a "retail lab" targeting Gen Z with streetwear brands, art galleries and augmented-reality installations.

Yet within two years, a tenant churn began. Some venues stood empty, while others pivoted back to more traditional retail. It was a vivid reminder that tapping into youth culture requires more than neon lights and niche brands. It demands continuous cultural fluency, content agility and, most importantly, authentic storytelling.

Opportunities open

This is where opportunity lies.

Unlike a decade ago, today's young consumers are highly discerning. They are not looking to be sold to; they want to participate. They follow brands not for logos, but for value. In this landscape, retail spaces are evolving into community platforms.

For example, take Pop Mart, the Chinese toy company that transformed blind-box collectibles into a national sales phenomenon. Beyond selling vinyl character figures, Pop Mart cultivates fan communities through social media, offline exhibitions and even theme parks in the pipeline.

Its success shows that intellectual property with an emotional arc is more powerful than any single retail trend.

The same could be said for MiHoYo, the Shanghai-based game studio behind "Genshin Impact" and "Honkai: Star Rail." The company has gone beyond mobile gaming to build related cultural ecosystems, complete with original soundtracks, animations novels and branded cafés.

A recent, temporary Star Rail pop-up store in a downtown mall drew thousands of fans, with some waiting in line for more than four hours just to buy character keychains.

What Pop Mart and MiHoYo tell us is that marketing to the younger generation requires narrative capital not just square footage.

So what can Xujiahui learn from this?

To succeed in its next act, Xujiahui must move beyond cosmetic change and embrace experiential depth. That means investing in long-term partnerships with rising cultural Internet protocols, offering flexible event spaces and perhaps even developing original communities – think "Xujiahui Originals" rather than just "Xujiahui Renovated."

Moreover, the area needs to become a testing ground for hybrid formats such as retail + eSports, fashion + sustainability, manga + education. Done right, these experiments can attract not just foot traffic but a new sense of community – a form of urban stickiness that algorithms cannot replicate.

Yet there's a delicate balance to strike.

A wholesale pivot to youth might render the area alien to long-time residents who still form the bulk of Xujiahui's daily population. After all, this is an area where older citizens still gather in the mornings for tai chi in Xujiahui Park and where long-standing department stores once defined the neighborhood's middle-class identity. Urban renewal must avoid becoming urban displacement.

Inclusivity doesn't mean catering to everyone at once; it means building spaces flexible enough to evolve with inclusivity.

Can the same commercial center host cosplay gatherings by day and classical music session by evening? Can mall food courts diversify from trendy snacks to heritage cuisines from Shanghai's old neighborhoods? Can a manga exhibition sit across from a digital archive of Xujiahui's Jesuit history? The answer should be yes because that's the profile of what a living city looks like.

In fact, the best example of this integrated model may be Tokyo's famed Akihabara district, once strictly an electronics hub but now globally known for its anime culture. Yet the area is still home to tech-parts markets and retro cafés that appeal across generations. Its urban fabric been transformed without erasing its past.

Shanghai, a city that champions the mantra of "all rivers running into the sea" (海納百川), can do the same. In Xujiahui, where science, religion, commerce and education intersect, the cultural DNA is already in place.

And a final note. The commercial opportunity here is profound but underleveraged.

China's youth consumer market, with some 260 million people under the age of 30, still lacks the cross-sector support that can elevate it from subcultures to mainstream culture. City investment, media partnerships and academic collaboration could help shape a more resilient creative economy – one where future MiHoYos and Pop Marts are incubated not by chance but by design.

Xujiahui's latest reinvention isn't just about shopping; it's about identity. It's about what kind of city Shanghai wants to be – one that simply updates its outward appearance or one linked to the generational heartbeat of its streets.

The kids in cosplay aren't just dressing up. They're pointing the way forward.

(The author is an adjunct research fellow at the Research Center for Global Public Opinion of China, Shanghai International Studies University, and founding partner of 3am Consulting, a consultancy specializing in global communications. He has no conflict of interests to declare.)