Watch · Research note · Published June 2026

How Do You Make a Store Feel Premium?

How do you make a store feel premium? Every answer comes back to something you can see: lighting, fixtures, materials, staff.

Watch the breakdown

  • 0:00 · The question: what makes a store feel premium?
  • 0:41 · The wine-shop experiment
  • 1:23 · Why we assume premium is a look
  • 2:20 · What the studies found (and the French wine 5:1)
  • 4:02 · The mechanism: congruence
  • 5:14 · The catch + verdict (B−)
  • 6:21 · So what for you

How do you make a store feel premium? Ask that out loud in any retail company and every answer comes back to something you can see: better lighting, heavier fixtures, real wood instead of laminate, fewer things on the floor set further apart, staff in better clothes. All of it's good, all of it's expensive, and all of it leaves out the one premium signal that's already playing every hour the doors are open. There's real research on this, and the short version is that premium is partly the music, and the music is the part nobody on the team owns.

The Hook

Picture a wine shop. Same shelves, same bottles, same prices, same staff. On some visits the speakers are playing classical music. On other visits the same shelves are playing top-40. Nothing else moves. And researchers stand there and watch which bottles people actually pull down. With the classical playing, shoppers reach for the more expensive wine. Switch to top-40, and that lift goes away. Nobody announced an upgrade or put a sign up. The room just sounded a certain way, and the bottle people felt comfortable buying climbed. That's the whole experiment, and it's doing something most premium budgets cost a fortune to do.

What We Used to Think / Why It's Tempting

Now, the intuitive story is that premium is a look. You make a place feel expensive by making it look expensive, and the eyes do the whole job. And that isn't crazy. We talk about retail almost entirely in visual terms. We say a store looks high-end, looks cheap, looks tired. So when a brand decides its stores should feel more premium, the plan that comes back is always a list of things you can see, because seeing is where we think value gets decided. The music ships on a head-office playlist during the rollout and then sits there for years. The brand spends a year specifying what the customer will see and leaves what she will hear on the default. The temptation is to treat sound as background, and the research is about to say it's doing foreground work.

What the Research Actually Found

So let me show you the studies, because there are two, and they teach different halves of the lesson. The first is Areni and Kim, 1993. This is the wine shop I described. Classical music versus top-40, same store, same stock. With the classical playing, shoppers bought more expensive bottles. Here's the part people miss. They didn't buy more bottles; the count didn't climb. What changed was the price of the bottle they were willing to pick up. Classical music nudged people up the shelf, toward the pricier wine, without selling them more wine. The music was changing which bottle felt like the right one for a person like them, in a store like this, rather than making people buy.

Then the second study, and this is the one that explains why. North, Hargreaves, and McKendrick, 1999, in a real supermarket wine aisle. They played French music, accordion, the sound you'd put under a Paris scene in a film. And French wine outsold German, by about five to one. Then they switched to German music, the oom-pah, beer-hall sound. And the pattern flipped, and the German bottles started moving, in the same aisle, with the same wines at the same prices. And when they asked shoppers at the register whether the music had anything to do with their choice, almost nobody said yes. People didn't feel pushed. They felt like they picked the wine they wanted. The music matched something they already associated with the bottle, and the match made the choice feel obvious.

The Mechanism

So here's the because, and it's one idea doing both jobs. Think of the music as handing your brain a category before your eyes reach the shelf. Classical in the air, and "refined, upscale, expensive" is already loitering at the front of your mind when you look at the wine. So the pricier bottle reads as the natural fit, and you reach for it. French accordion in the air, and "French" is the category sitting ready, so the French bottle is the one that feels right. The music is pre-loading a frame rather than persuading anyone, and people reach for what fits the frame. Which means the active ingredient was never the genre. Classical worked because it agreed with what the shopper already believed about wine, and for no other reason. Congruence is the lever. The sound has to fit what you sell and who's standing in the store, or it does nothing. Play classical in a skate shop and you've made it confusing rather than premium.

The Catch, and the Verdict

Now the catch, and it's a real one. Both of these are single-store studies. Areni and Kim is one wine shop, a small sample, and as far as the literature goes it hasn't been cleanly replicated at scale. North's wine study is one supermarket aisle. These are clever, well-run field experiments, and they point the same direction, which counts for a lot. But the size of the effect in your store isn't something two wine studies can promise you, and the whole thing is heavily moderated by fit. Change what you sell, change the crowd, and the result can shrink or vanish. The direction holds up better than the magnitude. So where does that leave us? On the evidence, music as a premium signal grades out at a B minus. The effect is real and it has been shown in careful field tests, but it rests on a small number of single-site studies, and it only works when the music fits the store.

So What for You

So here's what this means if you run stores. Put the music on the same list as the lighting and the materials, as a thing the brand chooses on purpose, because right now most fleets are running a playlist nobody picked for a reason. And then accept the hard part. There's no genre that means premium. What lifts the perceived value of your store depends on the brand it sits inside, on who's on the floor at eleven in the morning versus six at night, and on what those people already associate with what you sell. Fit is the entire game, and fit is specific to your store. The music is also the cheapest premium signal you have, because the speakers are already on and a customer can pull your whole catalog up on her phone, but she can't get the room through a screen. Before you spec another fixture, pull up what's playing across your stores right now and ask who chose it and what they chose it for. That's the work I do.

Evidence grade. B−. Two well-designed field experiments (North et al. 1999, B-quality; Areni & Kim 1993, C-quality) point the same direction and isolate congruence as the mechanism, but the support is a small set of single-site, largely unreplicated studies with heavy moderation by fit. It's strong but bounded, at the low end of the B band.

References

  1. Areni, C. S., & Kim, D. (1993). The influence of background music on shopping behavior: Classical versus top-forty music in a wine store. Advances in Consumer Research, 20, 336–340.
  2. North, A. C., Hargreaves, D. J., & McKendrick, J. (1999). The influence of in-store music on wine selections. Journal of Applied Psychology, 84(2), 271–276.

Common questions

Can music really make a store feel more premium?

It can nudge perceived value, yes, but it's a smaller, more conditional effect than the "play classical and look expensive" story implies. In Areni & Kim's 1993 wine-shop study, classical music (versus top-40) shifted shoppers toward pricier bottles, with the same stock at the same prices. They didn't buy more bottles; they bought up the shelf. That's real, but it rests on a small set of single-store studies, which is why I grade it a B−.

So should I just play classical music to seem upscale?

No, and this is the part most people miss. Classical worked because it fit what shoppers already believed about wine, and for no more universal reason than that. North et al. (1999) showed the same thing in reverse: French music sold French wine, German music sold German wine. The lever is congruence, so the music has to fit what you sell and who's in the store. Play classical in a skate shop and you've just made it confusing.

What should I actually do with this?

Put the music on the same list as the lighting and the fixtures, as something the brand chooses on purpose, for fit, instead of a head-office playlist nobody picked. It's the cheapest premium signal you have and the one thing a customer can't get through a screen. Finding out what your stores are actually saying right now is the work I do. The evidence grade for this one is a B−.