2026年9月10日

MUJI Faces Store Closures – Even Takeshi Kaneshiro Can’t Turn the Tide

As the summer heat fades, MUJI’s once-bustling Beijing Sanlitun (Shimao Gong San) store, after more ...

As the summer heat fades, MUJI’s once-bustling Beijing Sanlitun (Shimao Gong San) store, after more than a decade of operation, has reached a quiet but poignant end. On August 31, 2025, the brand officially shut its doors, with farewell sale posters lining the store, signaling not just a closure, but the fading of an era. This is hardly an isolated case. MUJI has been steadily retreating from the Chinese market in recent years. According to official financial reports from parent company Ryohin Keikaku, MUJI closed 30 mainland stores between fiscal years 2022 and 2024, and another 17 stores were closed by May 2025 alone. Cities from Shanghai to Suzhou, Jinan to Changsha, have all seen MUJI stores vanish. Naturally, questions arise: Has MUJI lost its shine? Is it no longer profitable? Could the once-revered “darling of China’s middle class” be nearing collapse? Founded in Japan and entering mainland China in 2005, MUJI pioneered a minimalist aesthetic—what many call “wabi-sabi chic”—and quickly became a lifestyle symbol. For nearly two decades, MUJI stood as a beacon of refined taste, simplicity, and aspiration. But today’s wave of closures feels like the end of a chapter. The challenges are clear: the meteoric rise of e-commerce, the surge of affordable homegrown alternatives, and rapidly shifting consumer habits have squeezed MUJI out of its comfort zone. In an effort to revive the brand’s allure, MUJI tapped Asian superstar Takeshi Kaneshiro as its brand ambassador in 2025. The collaboration initially worked wonders—social media buzz surged, search traffic soared over 300% within three days, and “Kaneshiro-style” items even sold out in stores. Yet, the excitement proved fleeting. As any retail veteran knows, celebrity endorsements may spark attention, but only product quality and true value retain loyal customers. Unfortunately, MUJI’s reputation has been repeatedly shaken by quality scandals. In August 2024, a stainless-steel scissor set failed official quality inspections, violating national safety standards for student supplies. Months earlier, MUJI’s ultrasonic humidifier was found non-compliant due to electrical issues. These were not isolated incidents. From 2019 to 2024, MUJI faced repeated penalties for substandard home goods, mislabeled apparel, and even expired food products. Even in Japan, MUJI was recently forced to recall food items due to contamination risks. The consequences have been severe: consumer trust has eroded, online complaints have surged past 2,400 cases, and the brand’s once-polished image has dulled. For a company long positioned as “affordable luxury,” the disconnect between high prices and inconsistent quality is striking. MUJI’s pricing in China has long been controversial. Everyday items—a pair of scissors for ¥90, a colander for ¥128, or a kettle for ¥428—carry premium tags that consumers once tolerated in exchange for aesthetic appeal and cultural cachet. For many, visiting MUJI was not just about shopping; it was about aspiring toward an ideal lifestyle. But when Chinese consumers realized MUJI’s products were priced 25–50% higher than in Japan, the illusion shattered. The brand’s once-revered “high-end minimalism” began to look more like a marketing trick. Despite multiple price cuts since 2014, MUJI has struggled to redefine its value proposition, especially as local competitors like MINISO, NOME, and Xiaomi’s ecosystem stores undercut it with similar designs at a fraction of the price. To its credit, MUJI has not stood still. While closing underperforming outlets, it continues to expand aggressively into new commercial zones with flagship stores that showcase the brand’s evolving vision. The company now targets larger footprints—often over 1,500 square meters—with spaces that integrate MUJI Books, MUJI Cafés, and even experimental “Farm Concept” stores. In 2024, MUJI opened its largest China flagship in Beijing’s Chaoyang Joy City, spanning nearly 5,000 square meters. By 2025, new flagships emerged in Chongqing and plans were underway for Changsha. Simultaneously, MUJI has invested in digital transformation—joining e-commerce battles, enhancing its membership system, and experimenting with instant retail via food delivery platforms. These efforts have helped stabilize sales. Financial results from 2024 showed revenue and profit growth in China, albeit at a slowing pace. MUJI’s dilemma is sharp. Its original philosophy—“good products without unnecessary design or branding”—once captivated Chinese consumers hungry for sophistication. But in today’s pragmatic, cost-conscious market, that same philosophy risks being seen as outdated and overpriced. China remains MUJI’s most important overseas market, and its survival here may well determine the brand’s global trajectory. To succeed, MUJI must strike a delicate balance: rediscover its essence while reestablishing trust, affordability, and innovation. Because in the end, MUJI’s mission was never about erasing its name entirely—it was about proving that a “no-brand” lifestyle could still shine in a branded world.

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