PokeMarts are a quintessential part of Pokemon worldbuilding. In fact, they're the very first piece of worldbuilding we encounter. Way back in Pokemon Red & Blue, the first quest you're given is to go to the PokeMart for the Professor. Since then, pretty much every town or city we've encountered in Pokemon has had a PokeMart. There are a handful of exceptions, with some cities like Celadon having huge department stores, but mostly towns are expected to get by with just a PokeMart to their name. But how on earth do they manage?
PokeMarts are great for trainers like you. For travellers just passing through, whose primary goal is to be the very best, like no one ever was, PokeMarts are perfectly stocked. They have Poke Balls, potions, repels, escape ropes, and anything else you might need for journeying onward to the next town, fending off Zubats and catching Roggenrola on the way, but they don't have any tins of beans. How are you supposed to live in a Pokemon town? Everything is built for those just passing through. Fight in this gym, heal at this PokeCenter, shop at this PokeMart. Leave. But what about the people left behind?
This probably seems like a minor gripe. PokeMarts are designed to look like convenience stores, and since we have no use for groceries, we don't get the option to buy them. It doesn't mean they're not there, right? The shelves seem to jus be stacked with Pokemon stuff, but then even if that were true, it doesn't change the wider issues with how Pokemon towns are set up. I've frequently praised Goldenrod as one of Pokemon's best cities because it feels lived in. There are an assortment of houses with reasonably talkative NPCs in them. There's a store that actual citizens could shop in, as well as smaller outlets. There's a radio station, a train station. Yes, it still has the basic requirements that make a Pokemon town enjoyable and worthwhile for a player, but it's also a real place someone could conceivably live in.
It's no surprise Goldenrod comes in Gold & Silver. This was the last Pokemon game to ask 'what can we do?' rather than 'what worked previously?', and while later games may point to technical limitations for why their world and their PokeMarts are so limited, Gold & Silver were able to essentially put two Pokemon games in one (all of Kanto unlocks in the endgame), and make one of the best locations the series has ever had.
Most of our favourite places in Pokemon are being looked at through a JRPG lens. It makes some sense, given that Pokemon is a JRPG, but remove your own adventure from the equation and a lot of the most iconic towns fall apart. There might be a creepy haunted tower, or a secret underground lair, or an interesting gym puzzle, but but Bob Johnson who lives down the road, all he has is a shop that seems to cater mostly to Pokemon catchers and a Pokemon hospital. He just wants to grill goddamn it.
Perhaps this complaint is a little out of date. Sword & Shield took advantage of the 3D realm to provide a range of boutiques that made the towns feel like they belonged to the townsfolk, not to us as players. Scarlet & Violet will likely do the same, while Legends: Arceus was all about raising a town. Pokemon is finally letting people live in the world, not just catch 'em all. But as the likes of Brilliant Diamond & Shining Pearl launch with very little attempt to upgrade them, and with the older games remaining timeless (so long as you can find a way to play them, thanks Nintendo), it's a complaint that will always feel relevant. The worldbuilding in the first two Pokemon games was great, with most major locations having layered designs like office blocks, museums, casinos, radio towers, flower shops, and a whole assortment of buildings that would be useful to citizens, not just players. Since then, the games became too complacent, relying on Mart, Center, gym, and maybe a house or two.
Even now, some potential is being squandered. Hulbury had all the ingredients to be the best city in Pokemon history and it never used any of them. Still, at least we'll never go back to the dark days of Cianwood. Please. Never.