Rick Vayo’s work isn’t always fun and games. But the prolific developer’s latest venture, a downtown store called Bamp’s Toy Vault, is exactly that.
Last Thursday morning, eight days before its Oct. 24 opening, a surprisingly relaxed Vayo stands in the 36 Main St. shop amid a cluster of construction materials, equipment, display racks, and boxes brimming with products ready for shelving. Delivery people stream in and out of the long-empty building that was home to Eastern Bank, while employees huddle to discuss next steps.
The scene evokes the crinkly chaos of Christmas morning in a family room overrun by overexcited kids. In fact, Vayo drew inspiration for Bamp’s from a scene in the holiday classic “Elf” in which Will Ferrell’s Buddy redecorates a toy department overnight. New York’s FAO Schwarz – featured in the movie, “Big” – is another touchstone.
“I am the biggest fan of childhood magic and Christmas and keeping that alive,” Vayo says.
If anyone here is stressed by the hours of assembling, arranging, touching up, and stocking that still needs to be done, it is masked by their near-constant smiles. But then, can creating what Vayo calls an “over-the-top” toy store be classified as work?
The 4,200-square-foot Bamp’s features cozy nooks, rooms designed to enthrall young adventurers, an ice cream shop called Mika’s, a “closet” to try on costumes, and – of course – the old walk-in bank vault, which has been converted into a Lego headquarters, complete with flooring that resembles those familiar plastic pieces.
Think the opposite of a Toys R Us, whose stores were as appealing as a night in the E.R.
Pardon the worn-out buzz word, but Bamp’s aims to be experiential, an alternative to screen time and one-click Amazon shopping. It also promises respite for parents tired of the Target toy aisles gauntlet, and maybe even a rewind to their early years, when algorithms had yet to co-op commerce. For some, it might recall the days when downtown had a toy shop called Wing and a Prayer on Main Street Extension. Bamp’s is a 10X version of that.
If it seems counterintuitive to sink money into a large toy store in 2025, well, it is. Vayo – who through his company Megryco, is on a mission to improve the business district – credits his wife Linda with the idea.
“She’s the one who would look at it from a reality standpoint,” he says, “so once I heard her say ‘I think it could work,’ that was it.”
The name was inspired by their grandson, Bear, the son of Vayo’s daughter and Megryco vice president Megan Marble, who took the lead on the store’s design. Vayo was keen on being called Gramp. Bear preferred Bamp. He had the final say.
Vayo’s indelible imprint on the downtown area’s ongoing transformation has brought criticism from those who say he’s trying to “take over” Plymouth for financial gain while putting the squeeze on long-time residents and businesses through gentrification. He shrugs off those accusations, saying, “I’m putting my money where my mouth is.”
“We are always looking for something that’s going to help downtown Plymouth emerge. I won’t do anything that’s not in the best interest of Plymouth.”
The list of Megryco projects is lengthy. Beside Bamp’s Toy Vault, works in process include a boutique hotel on Chilton Street called The Drew that is set to open next June, the upscale Saltash 55-plus development in Chiltonville, an apartment complex on Sandwich Street that will replace two medical buildings on life support, and a search for the right tenants to fill the shuttered Proof 22 and Su Casa restaurant spaces. (Vayo owns both.)
More than once during our conversation, he credits his “team” members for transforming the Bamp’s dream into reality, including Marble and Amanda Morey, who helped design the space and does most of the buying. She’s also a buyer for next door’s Plimoth General Store, another Vayo property that has quickly become a major downtown attraction.
Marianne Folloni, “who started with us at Plimoth General Store, is spearheading this entire retail operation,” he says. Folloni will also oversee retail at PGS. Tatum Stewart, who has been crucial to its success, was also part of the strategic planning for Bamp’s. She’ll manage food operations for both spots – catering has become a major component of the general store – even as she takes on the role of general manager at The Drew.
Vayo also makes a point of crediting Megryco’s support staff – Kate Nessralla, Monique Natola, Victoria Holmes, and Karen Scott – as well as family members Jason and Ryan Vayo.
It’s clear that he does not want to be perceived as an all-knowing, top-down boss.
“I paint these massive strokes and make these lofty goals – ‘This is what we need to do.’ They only come to life because of them,” he says.
Over the sound of a power tool whirring nearby, he describes what customers should expect when they walk through the door.
“I want you to have to explore every corner of the store,” he says. “You come around a corner and there’s something else. There’s a big Elsa [figure] here, there are storm troopers over there, a Jack Sparrow, or Spider Man hanging from the ceiling. I want you to see something new every single time you come in…but I don’t want it all to be given to you the moment you walk in.”
A self-professed “stickler” for details, he pauses to offer instructions to a worker positioning a Lego sign over the vault entrance.
“Are we going to center that up and down on the door?” he says. “I think we want to get above the bolts, OK? And then center it between that edge that you have at the bottom and the top.”
On the other side of the room, someone is turning a painted pipe into a huge straw by wrapping it in the style of a candy cane. The bottom part disappears into a similarly outsized cup labeled “Mika’s,” the name of the ice cream counter.
At the back, there’s a magnificent “library” – a room for older children that will be stocked with assortment of chapter books and other age-appropriate reading materials. An old fireplace has been meticulously restored. The wallpaper is a story unto itself, depicting stylish animals in all kinds of fancy headgear.
A section for babies and toddlers boasts a ceiling that’s alive with birds swooping through abstract clouds.
The inventory, Vayo says, will be “an eclectic mix. Things from local or regional artisans to Mattel or Barbie. It could be Lego, it could be Hasbro. Whatever the hot toy is, we’ll have it at the same price as you would [find it] online. People might assume that because it’s a specialty store that they can’t afford it. But we’re going to have a bunch of price points. This should be accessible to everyone.”
Vayo likes to think of his individual businesses – whether a retail store, apartment complex, or restaurant- as components of a larger plan. Just before we end the walk-through, he circles back to that master blueprint, and the concept of gentrification. Some people consider it a curse word, I tell him.
“It doesn’t have to mean affluent, high-end society, whatever,” he says. “What it can just mean is something that’s a little more refined and more family friendly, oriented toward a wider age range. Downtown Plymouth is not just for the 21- to 26-year-olds anymore – ‘We’re going to get drunk and roam around the streets.’ It’s just not. That’s why you see [some of] these businesses failing, because they’re still running a business model for that crowd, with drinks and subpar food. That’s been going away for years. But there are stragglers.”
Mark Pothier can be reached at mark@plymouthindependent.org.