Something New This Way Comes to Jianguomen

Ana Padilla Fornieles | May 17, 2025 11:30 am | Add a comment | 189 reads

As a seasoned resident of Beijing (ahem), I've got a confession to make – sometimes I find myself going through the motions. With a 9-to-5, an endless to-do list, ups and downs, and an earnest attempt at a social life, sometimes there just isn't much space for improvisation. I've got my group of friends, and we have our usual stomping grounds that we hit on the weekends, provided that we're lucky enough to have free time. Welcome to adulthood and all that jazz. Sometimes, though, I hear this little voice nagging me — am I falling into a little bit of a rut?

If you're vigorously nodding along, dear reader, I don't know that there's an antidote, short of moving elsewhere. But I do have an interesting exercise to propose: Look around your surroundings, and be alert to new developments. Let me present you with an example. Last winter, I was heading to my weekend brunch at Side Street Jianguomen – as one does – when I noticed vague signs of action at the longtime desolate lot in Xiushui Nanjie, just before reaching the corner of Western restaurant Nola. I didn't even know what the space looked like, because it'd been dead for easily longer than I've even been here. I was not so intrigued as I was freezing, so that was that.

Fast forward a few brunches, and find yours truly back at Side Street on a beautiful spring day, trying to have a little tête-à-tête with my laptop. Alas, my will faltered. With a balmy breeze and sunlight pouring over the now luscious rows of ash trees that flank Jianguomen Waidajie, soon enough, I found myself strolling around. And boy, had those winter clues bloomed into some proper action at Xiushui Nanjie.

Bit of a vague name, isn't it? Friendship … Friendship what? Friendship Complex is what I've dubbed it, but I would much rather you hop in the time-traveling machine with me for a brief history class. Things just make more sense in Chinese; look up any of the businesses here in your map of choice, and you'll soon notice an allusion to a Friendship Store (友谊商店 yǒuyì shāngdiàn).

Friendship Stores are one of the most remarkable symbols of old-school China, having first opened nationwide in the 1950s to a fairly exclusive clientele: Soviet experts assisting China's economic development, foreign visitors and tourists, diplomats and government officials. The shelves of these state-run stores were stocked with high-quality Chinese art and crafts and a monopoly on costly Western, imported items. Foreign exchange certificates were the only currency for customers armed with their foreign passports before they could even grab a basket, while common folks could only gawk from the windows.

The lore of Friendship Stores languished in the early 1990s, with most of them actually made redundant once foreign visitors were allowed to carry ordinary RMB in the PRC. Some of them remain extant, as is the case for Beijing's own branch at the nearby 17 Jianguomen Waidajie, opened in 1973 and once upon a time the largest of its kind in China. Should one want to know how well business has gone for them over the past decade, Tripadvisor has a gloomy collection of tepid reviews for your perusal.

But why would we dwell in the past? Now that we are privy to the history tidbit behind Friendship Complex, it's time to get nosy, and don't you forget your purse! The fun starts at Berry Beans' newest branch just by the entrance, which has actually been operational since January. Tiny but mighty, the space boasts cute interiors, a very warm waitress and a decent selection of coffee-forward drinks. No Wi-Fi, but that helped me stay present in the moment and enjoy sipping on my delightful Yogurt Martini (RMB 38). They have a selection of sweet treats that I didn't partake of because I will be saving my sweet tooth for whatever will come out of the ovens of Sol Sourdough, the artisan bakery-to-be just next door, still under construction.

In fact, this is the case for quite a few of their neighbors. Nice Cream, of healthy gelato fame, Peiping Machine – a snazzy affair at night – and plant-based restaurant Duli are all ready to take your order. At Metal Hands, though, I was entertained by the quiet, focused work of a painter as he carefully brushed each stroke of the character 鐡 (tiě iron) on a white sign. Only twice did he dip his brush in a tin of bright red acrylic paint; he was seemingly impervious to the swarm of kids running back and forth.

At the back, next to a bunch of abandoned animal sculptures in gaudy colors, a branded construction hoarding announced the imminent opening of a Somm's Table. Back at the courtyard, another wall wrap for Lovespot, next to a Cantonese-looking restaurant with its doors still closed to the world. Opposite to them was Carbo, seemingly pasta-oriented and deceivingly open – only a menu-tasting for friends, the waiter told me before inviting me to come back in the next ten days or so. To their left, it was a quiet scene at Ciao Whisky & Cocktail Bar; to their right, Jenny Wang's recently renovated branch looks like it'll open right into the patio, next door to another bar-like space named Mistier. There might be more to come in the future: bright, tempting and ready to welcome every wanghong in town.

Earlier in this blog post, I told you all about the exclusive nature of Friendship Stores in their days of glory. Well, some of that spirit has carried on to one last commercial venue I shall mention here before respectfully bowing out. On the third floor of 17 Jianguomen Waidajie – the actual OG Friendship Store – luxury fashion and electronics outlet Zhuanzhuan (转转 Zhuǎnzhuǎn) was teeming with customers, about a week in advance of their actual official launch in Beijing.

Zhuanzhuan (literally “turn-turn”) is a very apt name choice for a business dealing with the sale and purchase of secondhand goods – business which you can conduct directly in the store or via their designated WeChat mini program. If you opt to show up there, you'll be promptly handed a pair of gloves, so that your curiosity won't compromise the condition of the rows upon rows of bags and purses on display. Dior, Bottega Veneta, Chanel, Gucci, Loewe, Balenciaga... It really is a dazzling array of designer brands, with each item endowed with a certificate of authenticity and sales that sometimes go up to 50 percent off the original price.

A splurge is a splurge, alright, but it was certainly my impression that Zhuanzhuan is unprecedented in Beijing. After all, we're talking world-class secondhand luxury retail, in a downtown location masterfully designed by Wang Zheng, architect and co-founder, in 2012, along with fellow Tsinghua University graduate Li Ling of SpaceStation Architects.

Here ends my report of this new space in Beijing. If you're now itching to check out these places, me too! If you're averse to what could be perceived as an ode to consumerism, just stick to the spirit of this blog post. Whether it's a new shop, a fresh restaurant or a beautiful trail off the beaten track, I assure you there is always something new for you in Beijing. So get out of your rut, and wander off!