I am under pressure, I have to be back at home for a meeting at the kids school by midday and I have work to do. If I set off early enough I can be there and back in two hours. I have to get to Westfield by 9am. Every road in North London has been dug up the day before, in a deliberate attempt to sabotage my trip. It’s a matter of life or death, a style crisis, a fashion moment not to be missed. Commes Des Garcons arrives at H & M !!
When I eventually arrive hot and bothered (there’s a surprise) the one jacket I desperately want to buy is displayed on a mannequin but not available to buy. ‘Why on earth are you displaying it if I cant buy it, that’s ridiculous’ I rant to the young boy assistant (are 14 year olds allowed fulltime jobs in retail?)
I leave the shop with several key pieces, trying to keep a lid on my retail rage, but composing an email in my head to Rei Kawakubo and the head of buying at Hennes.
I am in dire need of a coffee having left the house without so much as a slick of red lipstick or a cup of tea. I order my coffee and croissant to go. The team working in the coffee shop also have an average age of 16 and seem to be growing the coffee beans, slow roasting and hand grinding them, as well as milking the cow out the back. Another women of a certain age says ‘Come on guys get your act together’ to which the young boy gets a little bit stroppy. I chirp up ‘‘I suggest you apologise for your inefficiency rather than getting defensive’ Did I actually say that, did those words come out of my mouth, or has my mum suddenly popped up from the Cotswolds and is standing at my side.
All this in the week when I have single handedly challenged five enormous teenage girls on the bus for being rude and disrespectful (a word they tend to favour but fail to understand) and my best friend has offered to run John Lewis in Brent Cross (and I bet she could do it so well)
What will we be like by the time we reach 70, I shudder to think and imagine my children will refuse to leave the house with me. But its not going to stop me. Don’t even get me started on the terrible service station on the A1!!