The relatively small, entirely street-fronting retail complex at 730 N. Michigan will sell for the equivalent of $1,150 per foot. Granted, it’s an unparalleled location, but the price — more than ten times higher than the national average for retail — also points to the incredible sales per square foot figures being posted by the flagship tenants. Each of the stores draws thousands of shoppers a day directly off the street and into spaces far more generous than any available inside a mall. (Incidentally, CompUSA has threatened to leave its large, top-floor space at the complex.)

Down on State Street, Mills is exhibiting some preliminary architectural renderings of its Block 37 development. The going idea, unveiled last summer, is a phased development with different uses at each corner and ground-level open space in the center. Retail would focus at ground level and below ground; the tremendous excavation needed to build the proposed airport express station will open up a few levels for a subterranean mall.

A retail-only corner opposite the Reliance Building would both let the sun shine on Reliance and strengthen State’s traditionally strongest corner; residential at Randolph would complement three existing residential towers nearby (the Heritage, Block 36/Art Institute, and the forthcoming Smithfield tower). It appears, then, that Mills is rejecting any major big boxes for the site, including department stores — the smaller parcels required by the phasing just won’t fit anything with a 20,000 sq ft footprint. Theaters are listed as a possible use, but given their tremendous space demands I’m not sure whether that will happen. Similarly, I’m not sure where they expect the parking to go. Nor do I quite understand how they intend to phase construction of the underground mall, unless that (and, presumably, the retail building fronting State/Washington) is the first phase.

One tenant targeted by the city in early discussions with Mills was REI — hoping to follow the success of REI’s flagship in Seattle or the Coldwater Creek flagship in Denver. (Illustration from Mills Corp. site)

In strip mall news, The Fresh Market, a staple of my North Carolina childhood (I would spend much time sniffing the bulk bins of coffee), has announced plans to move into suburban Chicago.

First, imagine a heart drawn around “Rem & Prada” above. I’m usually not one to have knee-jerk reactions to the starchitects (I’ve visited IIT and Seattle, and neither lived up to the praise nor the condemnations), but it appears that OMA is trying to erase the boundary between private and public in the snotty world of high-end retail. Democratization is good in theory, but how will it work in practice?

Capt. Koolhaas Sails the New Prada Flagship by Christopher Hawthorne

The latest stateside design from Mr. Koolhaas and his Rotterdam-based firm, Office for Metropolitan Architecture, is a Prada flagship store that opens here Friday on Rodeo Drive. (Prada and Mr. Koolhaas prefer to call it an epicenter, joining other large stores like it in New York and Tokyo, and one in San Francisco that may never be built.) [Who thought to call a building in an earthquake zone “an epicenter”?] The building, whose budget has not been released, covers 24,000 square feet on three levels, on a lot squeezed between Gucci and Brioni, just down the palm-lined street from the Beverly Wilshire Hotel.

It is a piece of architecture whose most dramatic gesture is invisible: the building is completely lacking a storefront in the traditional sense. Before the store opens each morning, a gigantic garagelike aluminum door will retract into the basement, leaving no barrier � no windows, no columns, no doors � between the $400 sandals and the sidewalk.

The threshold is protected from Los Angeles’s rare spells of bad weather by an air-curtain system that responds to outside temperature and wind speed, and by the second story, which features an aluminum-covered box, 45 feet long by 12 feet high, that is cantilevered over the entrance.

“We wanted to use this absence of facade to let the public enter absolutely freely, to create a hybrid condition between public and commercial space,” Mr. Koolhaas said.

That is hardly an inconsequential gesture on a street where some retailers position conspicuously armed guards near the front door. At Prada, security sensors are hidden in the floor at the entrance, but keeping shoplifters from exiting absolutely freely will offer more than the usual challenge. [Prada stores everywhere have conspicuous, if not yet armed, guards at the entries. After all, much of the brand mystique of high fashion comes from the fact that it’s inaccessible to the wider public.]

There is also nowhere to affix the all-important logo. Prada is betting that the nonfacade facade will be highly conspicuous in its absence, suggesting the company’s supreme brand confidence. It is a calculated, even arrogant kind of nothingness, the architectural equivalent, Prada hopes, of a woman beautiful enough to risk showing up at a gala without a bit of makeup.

The firm explored a similar public-private mixture in its Manhattan flagship for Prada, which occupies a prominent corner in SoHo (formerly occupied by a branch of the Guggenheim Museum) and includes a stage for public performance.

The idea, Mr. Koolhaas said, was to shake up Prada’s reputation as one of the most exclusive brands in fashion by stressing an openness, even what he calls an “easy” and “welcoming” quality.

“A lot of high-end retail spaces are done in a minimalist style that only looks good if nobody’s in there and nobody’s touched anything,” said Ole Scheeren, a 33-year-old partner in Mr. Koolhaas’s firm who helped lead the Beverly Hills design team. “We wanted to create a space that was exclusive but also more informal, where you could sit on the stairs and try on shoes if you want but also just talk to your friends.” [Right ho. We all know how fashionistas welcome the hoi polloi to hang out in their midst.]