No amount of rebranding will rescue our dreary town centres

In this week’s plodding exercise in stating the bleedin’ obvious, a report from the housing, communities and local government committee has addressed the need for towns to up their game or die. With one in every five pounds spent in Britain now done so online, many town centres are at crisis point.

All of us are aware of the plight of our high streets – bland, identikit stretches of the same brands, plateglass-and-plastic storefronts, often shuttered at night with metal grilles, making many town centres feel like very hostile places indeed. Then there is the scourge of empty shops, and the possibility of a dozen different kinds of coffee but nowhere to buy anything genuinely useful, such as a reel of thread, a packet of laces or, increasingly, fresh fruit and veg.

The latest wise idea to combat this sad decline? The committee’s report says that town centres now need to have “brands”.

It’s true that branding can be effective in places where it springs from something which is authentic. The busy Yorkshire market town of Malton has enjoyed something of a renaissance over the past few years because its claim to be “Yorkshire’s food capital” is borne of truth. It has wonderful pubs and restaurants, proximity to some of the country’s finest producers, and now a thriving food festival. The self-appointed title reflects reality rather than trying to create a buzz where none exists. Good try, Crewe, with “Home of ice cream vans” but it does feel a little like clutching at straws.

Most of us have developed finely-attuned puffery detectors. However many surveys town councils conduct, however much market research or – the Lord help us – “reaching out” they do, it is impossible to rebrand something if the fundamental place or product is wanting. So many town centres are still the dreary, brutalist monstrosities clever people thought represented progress back in the Sixties. A couple of potted trees or a piece of public art chosen by a committee cannot obscure more fundamental architectural sins.

I look at old, black and white pictures of my corner of London and am struck by how attractive and inviting the shops and streetscapes look. There are rows of beautifully arranged shop windows, displaying everything from brooms to millinery, hardware to meat and vegetables. Handsome awnings protect customers from the elements, making shopping on foot an even more pleasant prospect.

And though these are images from our own past, they are the very things that attract many of us to our favourite foreign holiday destinations. We come back enthusing about the charming market squares and streets lined with “proper” shops. To save British towns, we must make them beautiful again – and start from scratch if necessary.

What makes a difference isn’t the style of the font, the placement of the logo, or the originality of the slogan. I feel embarrassed stating something so obvious, but it’s the quality of the experience people have when they visit a place – including how it looks and makes them feel.

We need town centres that look inviting and special, which offer an experience and a sense of local pride. That is what will tempt me – and many others – back from the cosy, convenient, pyjama-clad pleasure of shopping online, to the hurly-burly of the high street, more than any clever slogan ever could.