Two large rolls of Persian carpet come on hand carts from the building of the Persian king on an industrial estate in Hendrik-Ido-Ambacht. After a bit of pushing and pulling at the threshold, the carpets are rolled across the parking lot to the other side of the street, where Peter Jongerling is ready with his car and trailer.
Jongerling has purchased six carpets, “partly commercial and partly private”. He drove from the Achterhoek especially this morning to buy the Bidjar carpets, he says. He had actually hoped to stock up on more, but he was disappointed with how much supply there was left.
The Persian King, known for the handwritten advertisements in almost all major Dutch newspapers invariably announcing a liquidation sale, will really close its doors after this Saturday. The last one, that is – fourteen other stores previously closed, hence all the previous announcements of closing sales.
Now it is the turn of owner Jaap Vos’ wholesaler, which he has also been saying for years that it will be closed down soon. Vos attended agricultural school, traded in chocolate and once started an antique shop with a friend. By chance some carpets ended up there, and they turned out to be the best sellers – the Persian king was born.
Is it really over now, sounds here and there in the store. A liquidation sale has been announced so many times. Yes, Vos assured in his advertisements and in various interviews in recent weeks. At the age of 85, he thinks it is over after almost fifty years and there is no successor. He doesn’t want to talk to the press on his last day – too busy.
The rent has been canceled, this last Saturday of May is really the last chance to get a carpet from the Persian King. And there is interest in that: fifteen minutes before opening time, there were already three cars in the parking lot, says one of the salespeople.
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90 percent discount
To sell the last stock, customers receive a 90 percent discount on the recommended retail price, which is stated on handwritten notes. Vos determines the price based on the amount of work that goes into a carpet, he said earlier On de Volkskrant. For example, upon entering, there is a bright green rug measuring 2.82 by 2 meters from Iran, for 12,500 euros, hanging on the wall. A little further on there is a beige rug with red and blue accents from Pakistan, 2.95 by 2.55 meters for 19,500 euros. There are also smaller carpets: a few rooms away there is a 90 by 60 centimeter example. Recommended retail price: 1,500 euros.
“Those prices are bizarre,” says Jongerling outside his trailer. He has been buying carpets from the Persian King for some time, including from the previously closed Vos stores, but he does not think anyone has ever paid the full recommended retail price. “I think he drives the price up very high, so that he can then pretend to give a big discount. And apparently it works: trade is trade.”
There are still plenty of carpets on the ground floor of the wholesaler: they hang on the walls and lie in neat stacks on the floor, although those stacks have been a lot higher in recent weeks, Vos says in passing. Two salespeople dressed in a black T-shirt routinely roll the rugs off the pile so that a potential customer can take a good look at the offer.
You should have come three weeks earlier, then it would have been of some use to me
The top floor is a lot emptier: there are only a few rugs on the floor, many of the walls are already bare. In the corner is a large map of ‘Persien-Iran’, framed by all kinds of different types of carpets.
What remains this Saturday will go to a buyer, says Vos’ daughter Nicolette. She has always been in the store over the past Saturdays, this day there are nine salespeople. She is hopeful that the carpets will be a lot emptier this afternoon. “It’s not closing time yet, maybe all the gold diggers will come at 4 p.m.”
A large one doesn’t fit in the convertible
Harriët and Ad Scheepens bought their eighteenth, nineteenth and twentieth carpet from the Persian King this Saturday. No large carpets, otherwise they wouldn’t fit in the trunk of their convertible. They have been visiting the Persian King for thirteen years, have bought carpets for their own homes and those of their daughters, and today they wanted to come and have a look one last time.
Ad shows a photo on his phone of two large Persian carpets in their living room and smaller ones in other rooms. “It immediately creates so much atmosphere,” says Harriët. “The rest of our furniture is quiet, so it fits in well.” The couple keeps coming back here because they think Vos is a “super nice man”. “We always receive good and personal help here.”
The fact that he is less interested in media attention today – he does not want to be photographed – ultimately turns out to have a real salesman’s reason: “You should have come three weeks earlier, then it would have been of some use to me.”