How a Radical Retail Transformation Failed: The Inside Story of Kijkshop

How an outdated business model, legacy debt and millions in agreed funding that largely never became available brought down an ambitious retail transformation.

Most readers outside the Netherlands will never have heard of Kijkshop. For decades, however, it was one of the most recognisable names on the Dutch high street. Customers browsed products displayed behind glass, wrote down an item number and collected their purchase at the counter. Long before ecommerce existed, it functioned almost like an analogue webshop.

By 2017, that once-innovative model had become painfully obsolete.

Kijkshop did not fail because there was no new idea. When we became involved, the company was already in serious trouble, but there was a radical plan and five million euros in funding had been agreed in writing. That made the transformation risky, but not hopeless from the outset.

We delivered what we had committed to. Most of the agreed funding, however, did not arrive. As a result, an entirely new business model was expected not only to build Kijkshop’s future, but also to absorb legacy debt, empty shelves and a chronic lack of working capital.

That was impossible.

In a remarkably short period, we developed a new platform, an app, a different sourcing model, a new market position and a radically different organisational culture. The app was downloaded 100,000 times in six weeks. Employees and suppliers who had initially been sceptical began to believe in the company again.

But belief alone cannot save a business.

Without enough stock, there is little to sell. Without a marketing budget, almost nobody knows you exist. And without working capital, even a promising concept cannot be given enough time to prove itself.

I was not an adviser who wrote a report from the sidelines. My team and I developed a substantial part of the new strategy and helped execute it. My company continued working while invoices remained unpaid. In the end, the venture cost us approximately 750,000 euros.

This is my personal account of what happened behind the scenes, the choices we made, the agreements that were not honoured and why we continued despite everything.

I hold the agreements, correspondence and other documents on which this account is based. I am not publishing those documents in full, but I am not writing from hearsay or from stories told by others either.

I was there.

This account concerns the bankruptcy of the physical Kijkshop retail chain in January 2018. The Kijkshop brand was later acquired by another entrepreneur and relaunched as an online store in late 2019. That separate business went bankrupt in March 2021.

Kijkshop was once ahead of its time

Kijkshop was an icon of Dutch retail for decades. Every product was displayed behind glass. Customers wrote an item number on a slip of paper and took it to the counter, where an employee retrieved the product from the stockroom.

You could call it an analogue webshop.

When the first store opened in the 1970s, the concept was innovative. Decades later, smartphones, ecommerce and fast home delivery had become the new display cases. The formula that had once made Kijkshop distinctive had become a limitation. Customers could not handle products before buying them, the range was restricted and even after making a choice, they still had to wait at the counter.

The company did not lose to one particular competitor. It lost relevance because the world changed while Kijkshop remained largely the same.

In 2015, the chain was acquired by the Swedish investment firm Listérus & Partners. Large numbers of people were still visiting the stores, but beneath the surface the business had already been severely weakened. The new owners initially believed that cost reductions, better processes and repositioning would be enough to reverse the decline.

In reality, approximately 40 to 45 million euros was invested in Kijkshop and its repositioning. That was substantially more than the figure of just over 20 million euros reported in the media at the time.

It was a great deal of money, but it was used to improve a company whose fundamental business model had already lost much of its relevance.

That proved to be an expensive miscalculation.

My first encounter with Kijkshop

Around the time of the acquisition in 2015, a friend with extensive retail experience asked me to join him for a meeting with Christian Listérus and Björn Serving. They were involved with the Swedish investors behind Kijkshop and would play important roles in its new leadership.

The assumption was that cost reductions, better processes and other gradual, incremental improvements could make Kijkshop viable again. After all, the stores were still attracting more than one million visitors a month.

But high footfall does not make an outdated business model future-proof. A more contemporary contrast can be seen in the Action case, where a retail model still works commercially while hollowing out knowledge and service.

Innovation, repositioning and disruptive business models have always fascinated me. My team and I therefore developed several possible future scenarios. One envisaged almost empty stores where customers could explore the product range digitally.

Another was far more radical: a platform where customers could advise other customers by live video and receive a fee when their advice resulted in a sale.

That idea later became the basis for the KijkBijMij app. Its name roughly translates as “Look With Me”. The wider platform and transformation strategy were named TONE.

The proposals generated enthusiasm, but the leadership eventually chose a more conservative course. They wanted to optimise the existing formula, not replace it through disruption.

That is a common reflex. Once tens of millions have been invested in a company, radical change often feels more dangerous than optimisation.

In reality, the opposite is often true. It was here too.

When a business model has lost its relevance, improving its processes merely makes an outdated system more efficient. That is exactly why I would rather choose disruption instead of sub-optimization.

Three weeks before Kijkshop would have to close

About two years later, the same friend called me one evening. Kijkshop’s position had become critical. Despite reorganisations, store closures and other apparent improvements, its losses had not disappeared.

Only a few weeks remained before the company would have to close its doors.

The question was whether we would take one final look at the problem.

We were clear during the conversation. A company this close to the edge could no longer be rescued by a new visual identity, a better sales brochure or a few percentage points of cost reduction. Only a radically different business model still had a chance.

We proposed a transformation consisting of seven connected elements:

1. Develop KijkBijMij, a platform and app through which consumers could advise other consumers by live video and earn a commission when their advice led to a sale.

2. End traditional purchasing wherever possible and ask suppliers to provide products on consignment or directly from their own inventory.

3. Turn stores into showrooms where suppliers paid for visibility and display space.

4. Replace managers who continued to defend the old direction with people who genuinely could and would execute the radical change.

5. Build a culture in which employees received far more autonomy, responsibility and trust.

6. Replace the outdated systems with an omnichannel environment designed around the customer rather than internal processes.

7. Allow us not merely to advise, but to assume responsibility for execution and recruit the people capable of delivering it within three months.

This was not a loose brainstorming exercise. Beneath the concept sat a strategy, a timeline, an operational approach and a budget. We estimated that approximately five million euros would be required to implement the change and launch it with sufficient force.

Three weeks before the company was expected to fail, we received approval for the investment and permission to begin.

The ONE: making a new culture visible

The day after approval, we entered the head office after closing time. The building still embodied the old, traditional and tired Kijkshop. We placed the newly developed The ONE identity throughout the premises.

The ONE represented unity, pride and autonomy. It was not a campaign slogan. It represented the culture required to set the company in motion.

A brief note on the similar names may help. TONE was the name of the broader platform and transformation strategy. The ONE was the internal culture identity used at Kijkshop. TheONE later became the name of the company behind the broader live-video expertise platform.

When employees arrived the following morning, they could see that something fundamental had changed. At the same time, a major leadership transition began. It was tough and undoubtedly painful for those involved, but it is impossible to execute a radical change of direction with senior leaders who do not believe in it.

Then the race began.

The platform and app went into development. Implementation of a new omnichannel system started. We worked on a different product range, a different revenue model and a new relationship with suppliers.

Meanwhile, the existing business still had to keep running.

What would have been a major transformation under normal conditions was being attempted in approximately three months inside a company with heavy losses, overdue payments and almost no room to manoeuvre.

It was madness.

But it was not a fantasy.

We delivered.

The five million euros was agreed in writing

At the outset, five million euros had been agreed to make the transformation possible. The commitment was in writing.

That was precisely why we started and accepted risk ourselves. Entrepreneurs who ask others to invest millions should be willing to show that they have skin in the game too.

My belief was simple: deliver first, and the rest will follow.

We wanted to prove that the transformation was more than a PowerPoint presentation. So we did not wait until every risk had disappeared. We built, organised and delivered while the existing business continued operating.

A fundamental problem soon emerged. A large part of the agreed funding did not arrive. At the same time, legacy debt and overdue payments placed ever greater pressure on the operation.

People who were meant to be working on the transformation spent much of their time trying to keep worried suppliers on board.

That is almost impossible when those suppliers have already been waiting months to be paid.

During several trips to the Swedish investor, we were assured that the funding would follow if we delivered on time. The investors doubted that a transformation of this scale could be completed in three months.

That was understandable. Almost nobody would have attempted such a timetable.

What demonstrably did work

Slowly, the energy inside the organisation began to change. Employees saw that we were not merely making grand promises, but working day and night alongside them to execute the plans. For many, scepticism gave way to commitment.

The new direction also became visible outside Kijkshop. In June 2017, Twinkle described the new platform and Kijkshop’s proposed shift from a traditional retailer to a commission-based model without its own purchasing.

Media attention increased. Suppliers who had initially held back began to see opportunities. Employees who had spent years working inside a slowly shrinking retail formula felt movement again.

Then came tangible evidence from the market.

The KijkBijMij app was downloaded 100,000 times in six weeks.

That did not prove the revenue model. Downloads are not revenue, and interest is not yet a sustainable business. But it did demonstrate that a large group of consumers was curious about a radically different way to receive product advice and shop online.

The transformation had gained traction, but it had not been given time to mature.

Once we delivered, the rules changed

After approximately three months, we were ready to launch.

At that point, less than 1.5 million euros of the agreed five million had been received.

The agreement was that the remaining funding would follow if we delivered on time. When we did, a new condition appeared: first, the company had to demonstrate an increase in revenue. Only then might more funding become available.

That created an impossible circle.

To generate revenue, we needed enough products, stock and marketing. Those were exactly what the agreed funding was meant to provide. Yet contrary to the original agreement, the funding would now only arrive once revenue had increased.

Meanwhile, my own company had received almost no payment. Our outstanding invoices had grown to nearly 500,000 euros.

Stopping meant that everything we had built would probably be lost immediately. Continuing meant that we would finance an ever greater share of a risk that should have been carried by several parties.

I chose to continue. In part, I did so because we could see how many employees were committed to the new direction and how much belief had developed inside the organisation.

It was not because I failed to notice that payments were being withheld. It was because the agreements were in writing, the concept was attracting demonstrable interest and stopping at that point would almost certainly have meant the end.

My mistake was not trusting a good story without any agreement behind it.

My mistake was treating written, legally binding commitments for too long as though they held the same value as cash already in the bank.

Suppliers were caught in the middle

The payment problems affected more than us. Several suppliers had delivered goods and services and were waiting to be paid. At the same time, we needed their cooperation to make the new model work.

Guarantees were drawn up for certain suppliers and co-signed by representatives of the Dutch leadership and the Swedish investors. Swedish law applied to those guarantees.

Suppliers were entitled to understand that their payment was secured from Sweden.

In reality, enforcing payment later proved exceptionally difficult. Documents I subsequently obtained show that the protection suggested by those guarantees barely existed in practice.

I still consider this one of the most painful parts of the story. This was not a clerical error or an unforeseen legal complication. The documents show that the arrangement was deliberately structured in this way. Suppliers were given the impression that payment was secured, while the decision-makers involved knew that this security would barely be enforceable in practice. I consider that misleading.

These companies delivered because they believed in the new direction and because payment appeared to be guaranteed. They accepted risk on the basis of an assurance that ultimately proved far less valuable than they were entitled to expect.

Crowdfunding demonstrated commitment but could not solve the underlying problem

The investors did not only question the revenue potential. They suddenly wanted proof that employees genuinely supported the new direction as well.

Another new rule.

One day, I came up with a way to address several problems at once. A crowdfunding campaign could raise additional capital, generate national attention and demonstrate that employees themselves believed in Kijkshop’s future.

The proposal allowed employees to invest voluntarily, with their contribution being matched. In addition, a substantial part of the target amount would already be committed at launch, as is common in many successful crowdfunding campaigns.

The aim was to raise one million euros while demonstrating confidence inside and outside the company.

The campaign reached its target. In August 2017, one million euros was raised for the TONE platform.

That was an achievement. It proved that employees and other stakeholders were willing to accept risk themselves.

That is also what makes the outcome so bitter.

The crowdfunding was meant to form part of a much larger financing package, not replace it. The additional funding that was supposed to follow after this milestone was achieved once again failed to arrive.

The success of the campaign therefore became something painful.

People who had sometimes worked at Kijkshop for decades had invested not only their energy in the company, but in some cases their own money. They did what was asked of them. Nevertheless, the financial foundation on which the transformation depended was never completed.

Why Kijkshop ultimately went bankrupt

The physical retail chain collapsed in January 2018. Approximately 70 remaining stores closed and around 400 employees lost their jobs.

The easy conclusion is that the new platform did not work.

That is not what happened.

Kijkshop failed because several problems reinforced one another:

• The original store concept had lost most of its relevance.

• The company had been sustaining heavy losses for a long time.

• It carried legacy debt and substantial payment arrears with suppliers.

• The new management under Björn Serving and Christian Listérus initially continued improving the existing operation without fundamentally addressing the failing business model.

• The radical transformation only began when almost no time remained.

• Less than 1.5 million euros of the agreed five million became available in time.

• As a result, the company lacked sufficient inventory, product range and marketing power.

• Suppliers who were not being paid understandably became unwilling to continue delivering.

• The conditions for further funding changed after we had delivered the agreed work.

A new strategy and a new platform can change a great deal. But they cannot simultaneously finance old losses, settle overdue debt, fill empty shelves, create a new market without a marketing budget and compensate for investor commitments that are not honoured.

The strategy was given too little time and too little financial oxygen to prove itself.

Why I remained publicly positive for so long

Before, during and after the bankruptcy, I acted as a spokesperson in the media. I spoke about the investors’ commitment, Björn Serving’s “sadness” and the possibility of continuing with the platform.

Anyone who reads those interviews today alongside this account may wonder why I did not say then what I am writing now.

The answer is simple. I was still trying to save the vision, the jobs and perhaps our own investment as well.

Not all the documents I later obtained were known to me at the time. Moreover, written agreements were still in place and concrete discussions about further funding were ongoing.

Had I publicly brought the entire dispute to a head, any remaining prospect would have disappeared immediately.

My words were therefore not intended to hide the truth. They reflected what I was still trying to save at that moment.

MyCom only entered the story after the bankruptcy

The physical Kijkshop chain went bankrupt in January 2018. MyCom, a Dutch computer retailer, was subsequently acquired by the Swedish investor and became part of a new attempt to give the technology and platform value.

The plan was to apply the live-video model to MyCom as well. This would demonstrate that the technology did not depend on a single retailer.

Strategically, it made sense.

KijkBijMij had been developed for advice from one consumer to another. Within MyCom, certified experts could help consumers with technical questions by live video.

In April 2018, Twinkle announced MyCom’s return within TheONE and the relaunch of KijkBijMij.

We saw an opportunity to turn a retail concept into a broader expertise platform. The technology could then acquire value independently of Kijkshop. At the same time, this created another reason for the investors to make the agreed funding genuinely available.

That too led to new agreements.

Once again, a multimillion-euro investment was agreed in writing

For KijkBijMij, we had used technology that built on a live-video platform we had developed ourselves.

After the physical Kijkshop stores collapsed, the Swedish investors wanted to participate in that broader platform.

Our costs and unpaid hours had by then reached approximately 600,000 euros. With that much outstanding and a platform you still believe in, you do not simply walk away. You try to find a solution that can restore prospects for the company, the technology and your earlier investment.

One of the Swedish investors came to Amsterdam with advisers. He personally expressed confidence in the technology and our plans for the future.

For the platform, which by then was called TheONE, an initial investment of three million euros was confirmed.

This commitment was also in writing.

But the conditions changed again. Not once, but several times.

Eventually, we concluded that continuing was no longer entrepreneurship. It meant continuing to finance expectations that other parties kept moving.

We ended the collaboration and accepted our loss. By then, it had grown to approximately 750,000 euros. In 2019, we publicly announced that the original founders of CallTheONE were continuing independently without the Swedish investors.

Under severe legal pressure, we formally transferred the code of the KijkBijMij app. From Sweden, we were threatened with a damages claim that could have reached 50 million euros, with the collapse of Kijkshop being attributed to us.

Was that claim likely to succeed in court? I can be clear: no. But being right and having the resources to enforce your rights are two different things. At that point, we could not compete with the investors’ battery of lawyers. After the financial damage we had already suffered, we could not afford years of international litigation.

In business, being right does not always mean receiving justice.

Almost invariably, the party with the most money, the most time and the greatest willingness to litigate has the advantage.

What I later discovered about the funding

Only later did I understand why the financing had been so erratic.

Documents showed that an important Swedish fund manager was bound by strict conditions governing how the assets under his management could be invested. The funds were intended primarily for use in Stockholm and for specific cultural purposes.

The investment in Kijkshop did not fall within those conditions.

For me, this explains the pattern we saw throughout the collaboration. Enough money would arrive to postpone an immediate collapse, but never the full financing needed to give the transformation a serious chance.

When the physical retail chain went bankrupt, there was also a strong interest in continuing to show value in the holding company and its underlying technology.

That is why our technology and the KijkBijMij code became so important after the bankruptcy. On paper, those assets could represent considerable value, even when the operational reality was far more complicated.

The fund manager involved was later prosecuted. The legal case itself falls outside the scope of this article. What matters here is that we made our decisions on the basis of written funding agreements whose practical viability proved far less solid than we had been led to believe.

Why we kept going

In hindsight, it is easy to ask why we started before the full five million euros was actually in the bank.

Why we allowed our total financial exposure to grow to approximately 750,000 euros.

Why we helped organise the crowdfunding campaign even though I had begun to doubt whether the promised follow-on funding would become available in time.

And why we later placed our faith in another written commitment for a three-million-euro investment.

The answer is the same each time:

The agreements were in writing.

I did not rely on a handshake, a persuasive story or a casual promise. We had written agreements covering the funding and what each party would contribute.

Of course I knew there were risks. But there is no such thing as entrepreneurship without risk. If you expect others to invest millions while you remain on the sidelines until every risk has disappeared, you have no skin in the game.

My belief was this: first demonstrate that it can be done, then the rest will follow.

That is why we continued. Not out of blind optimism, but because we delivered, the organisation was moving and the concept was generating demonstrable interest.

The lesson is not that you should never trust an investor. Nothing is built without trust.

The lesson is that a contractual commitment is not the same as available funding. And skin in the game is only healthy when the risk is genuinely shared by everyone involved.

When one party continues delivering, financing and assuming responsibility while the other parties meet their obligations mainly on paper, it is no longer a shared venture.

Your conviction becomes someone else’s working capital.

Seven lessons I took from Kijkshop

1. Start a transformation before the company is almost dead

Radical renewal requires time, money and sustained attention from leadership. When almost all available energy is already consumed by creditors, suppliers and day-to-day liquidity, even a strong concept has little room to grow.

We started three weeks before the end. The amount we achieved under those conditions shows what was possible. It also shows that we began far too late.

2. A strategy without available funding is a wish

A signed agreement matters, but salaries, technology, inventory and marketing cannot be paid with a contract sitting in a file.

Do not only establish how much money has been committed. Establish when it will become unconditionally available, who truly controls the decision and what happens if the other party introduces new conditions after you have delivered.

3. Skin in the game must be mutual

Accepting risk yourself creates credibility. But when your exposure continues to grow while other parties’ risk is capped or postponed, commitment turns into a dangerous imbalance.

At that point, you are no longer building a business together. You are financing someone else’s ability to continue hesitating.

4. Innovation cannot compensate for poor governance

A brilliant platform, a strong brand story and committed employees cannot resolve unclear responsibilities, shifting conditions or unreliable financing.

Strategy, governance and funding must reinforce one another. If one remains structurally weak, it will eventually pull the others down with it.

5. Culture can change faster than many leaders think

At Kijkshop, we saw how quickly people can move when leaders visibly accept risk, make clear decisions and do what they promise.

Culture does not change because of posters on a wall. The posters worked only because action followed immediately.

6. Traction is not yet a viable business

One hundred thousand downloads were a powerful signal, but not proof of a sustainable revenue model.

That would have required more time, enough products, better availability, repeat usage and sufficient transactions. That distinction matters, even when you are proud of what was achieved in such a short period.

7. Stopping can be the most entrepreneurial decision

Perseverance is a strength until new information shows that the foundation no longer holds.

After that, continuing may simply mean trying to justify an earlier decision with even more time and money.

Ending the collaboration cost us approximately 750,000 euros. Continuing for longer would almost certainly have cost more.

How this experience changed my work

Kijkshop did not diminish my belief in radical renewal. It did make my judgement sharper.

When I now work as a strategic sparring partner with entrepreneurs, founders or leadership teams, I do not look only at the strength of the idea. I want to know who really makes the decisions, which resources are unconditionally available, which interests remain unspoken and what happens when agreements change.

A transformation requires four things to be right at the same time: the business model, the strategy, the leadership and the financial capacity to sustain the change for long enough.

At Kijkshop, the direction of the renewal felt right. The energy of many employees felt right. The interest in the platform offered genuine reasons for optimism.

But the financial reality did not match the agreements on paper.

We waited too long to confront that distinction with sufficient force.

To the former employees of Kijkshop

I still often think about the people who had sometimes worked at Kijkshop for decades and whom I sincerely hoped we could give a future again.

After years of stress, they faced reorganisations, a new culture, different systems, a radical business model, crowdfunding and ultimately the loss of their jobs, all within a remarkably short period.

My friend, our team and I genuinely intended to save the company and give you renewed prospects.

Not everything we proposed was easy. Not every decision was right for everyone. And the final outcome was not what we were trying to achieve.

But we never stood on the sidelines shouting that things needed to change.

We stepped inside. We assumed responsibility. We worked alongside you. We put our own money and reputations at risk.

That does not make the outcome any less painful.

It is, however, why this story means more to me than a retrospective on the failure of a well-known retail chain.

It remains a reminder of what entrepreneurship really demands: vision, decisive action and trust, but also the courage to recognise when reality no longer matches what was promised. Anyone who treats innovation only as a success story misses the power of failure.

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Frequently asked questions

Why did Kijkshop go bankrupt?

Kijkshop failed because of an outdated retail concept, continuing losses, legacy debt, substantial payment arrears and a transformation that only began when almost no time remained.

Five million euros had been agreed for the new direction. Less than 1.5 million became available in time. As a result, the new model lacked the product range, inventory, marketing and working capital required to receive a fair chance.

Why do radical business transformations fail?

Radical transformations often fail because companies begin too late, underestimate the working capital required or try to execute a new model while the old organisation is consuming all available cash and attention.

A compelling strategy is not enough. Governance, leadership, timing and financing must support it simultaneously.

Can a strong strategy fail because of insufficient working capital?

Yes. A strong strategy can attract users, engage employees and create market interest without becoming a viable business if there is insufficient money for products, technology, marketing and the time needed to establish repeat behaviour.

Traction demonstrates interest. It does not remove the need for working capital.

What was KijkBijMij?

KijkBijMij was a platform and app through which consumers could advise other consumers about products by live video.

When advice led to a sale, the adviser could receive a commission. The concept was intended to transform Kijkshop from a traditional retailer into a platform built around knowledge, advice and transactions between consumers.

How successful was the KijkBijMij app?

The KijkBijMij app was downloaded 100,000 times in six weeks.

That demonstrated substantial interest in the idea. It did not yet prove that the revenue model was sustainable. That would have required more time, sufficient products, marketing, repeat usage and enough transactions. It also shows why fail fast, learn rapidly only works when there is enough time, money and room to keep adjusting.

Was Kijkshop’s crowdfunding campaign successful?

Yes. The crowdfunding campaign for TONE reached its full target of one million euros in 2017.

The campaign, however, was intended to form part of a broader financing package. Once most of the other agreed funding failed to become available, crowdfunding could not resolve the structural shortfall.

Did Kijkshop’s new concept fail?

No. The concept attracted demonstrable interest and the app was downloaded 100,000 times in six weeks. But the platform was not given the time, product availability, marketing power or funding required to build a sustainable revenue model.

The concept had not yet been proven. But neither had it failed.

The company went bankrupt before the innovation received a fair chance.

What should entrepreneurs learn from funding that is agreed but does not arrive?

Written commitments matter, but they are not the same as available cash. Entrepreneurs should establish when funding becomes unconditional, who can still block it and what happens if conditions change after agreed milestones have been reached.

Trust remains essential. But risk must be genuinely shared.

When should a leader stop trusting an agreement and prepare for failure?

The moment one party repeatedly changes conditions, delays funding or relies on the other party to continue financing the operation, leaders should treat the gap between the agreement and reality as a strategic risk in its own right.

Preparing for failure does not mean abandoning the vision. It means protecting the company, employees and stakeholders before conviction becomes someone else’s working capital.