day.’
‘But a shoe department could be!’ I’d quipped with a smile.
He’d slung his satchel across his body and stood up, shaking his head.
‘What am I going to do with you?’ he’d said.
‘Anything you like...’ I’d called out. ‘As soon as the new season stock is all in and David and I have finished his collection, I’m all yours.’
‘I’ll believe it when I see it,’ he’d replied. ‘See you later!’
‘Have a good day!’ I’d called, but the door had already closed.
I look lovingly now at my most recent window display as I dismount and lock up my bike. I made them I think proudly. I’m sure it must be similar to what my sister Delilah feels when she gazes upon her children’s faces. And how Sam feels about Sophie. Sometimes I wonder if I should tell him how I honestly feel that my work is similar to being a parent. Sometimes when he’s telling me to take it easy I imagine saying to him: “You’ve always told me that the baby years are hard, well Sam, I know that because my career is still a baby!”
I walk into Hardy’s atrium and look around. I can scarcely believe that a mere 18 months ago I was the stockroom girl, waiting for her life to start. I have so much to be thankful for, but sometimes I feel like I could lose it all as fast as I got it. My job, Sam – I don’t know what I’d do without either of them. And that thought really scares me.
I run my hand lovingly across the mahogany wood-panelled walls and walk over to the grand central staircase. The banisters are gleaming with a tawny shine that tells me Velna has already worked her magic around this floor. The delicate glass teardrops of the ornate chandeliers above me are moving, as if in time with the rather tuneless singing voice floating down Hardy’s beautiful staircase, confirming my suspicions. I smile and go to call out a good morning to Velna – and to Justyna and Jan Baptysta who I’m sure are squirrelling around the store somewhere, but I decide against it for once. I can’t face telling them about Sam and I. Since Jan and Justyna got married last Christmas they have been the most vociferous converts to the institution and seem unable to fathom why anyone would choose not to instantly leg it down the aisle as soon as they get together. I’ve lost count of the amount of times Justyna has raised her monobrow at me and said “ You vill be next” in her slightly threatening Arnold Schwarzenegger type voice.
I fold my arms as I look around the store. Even though my new job doesn’t strictly require it, coming in early is a habit I haven’t been able to lose since working in the stockroom. Early mornings are still when I have my best ideas. Old habits die hard and it is only when I see the store so devoid of people that new ideas for displays come to life in my mind. Ideas that will hopefully continue to draw the crowds to the store. I can only compare it to having a tidy desk, or a blank piece of paper in front of you. The store is a frame in which I can create my masterpiece.
At the moment, we still have the sale on, which is always a tricky time in a retail merchandiser’s calendar. Everything tends to look a mess on the shop floor, which is a pet hate of mine, and no retailer seems to care how to display the goods in order to best attract customers. I’ve never understood this, I mean, visual merchandising is all about helping to display goods in a way that makes people want to take them off the rails or shelves. So surely, we need brilliantly enticing displays even more during Sale periods, when we’re desperately trying to get rid of last season’s (or even older) stock, as well as anything we’ve bought that just didn’t fly off the shelves like we wanted it to.
That’s what I told Rupert when he suggested I just use the old neon cardboard sale signs that Hardy’s had been using for years. The ones exactly like those placards people hold on Oxford St directing you to the nearest golf sale
‘But a shoe department could be!’ I’d quipped with a smile.
He’d slung his satchel across his body and stood up, shaking his head.
‘What am I going to do with you?’ he’d said.
‘Anything you like...’ I’d called out. ‘As soon as the new season stock is all in and David and I have finished his collection, I’m all yours.’
‘I’ll believe it when I see it,’ he’d replied. ‘See you later!’
‘Have a good day!’ I’d called, but the door had already closed.
I look lovingly now at my most recent window display as I dismount and lock up my bike. I made them I think proudly. I’m sure it must be similar to what my sister Delilah feels when she gazes upon her children’s faces. And how Sam feels about Sophie. Sometimes I wonder if I should tell him how I honestly feel that my work is similar to being a parent. Sometimes when he’s telling me to take it easy I imagine saying to him: “You’ve always told me that the baby years are hard, well Sam, I know that because my career is still a baby!”
I walk into Hardy’s atrium and look around. I can scarcely believe that a mere 18 months ago I was the stockroom girl, waiting for her life to start. I have so much to be thankful for, but sometimes I feel like I could lose it all as fast as I got it. My job, Sam – I don’t know what I’d do without either of them. And that thought really scares me.
I run my hand lovingly across the mahogany wood-panelled walls and walk over to the grand central staircase. The banisters are gleaming with a tawny shine that tells me Velna has already worked her magic around this floor. The delicate glass teardrops of the ornate chandeliers above me are moving, as if in time with the rather tuneless singing voice floating down Hardy’s beautiful staircase, confirming my suspicions. I smile and go to call out a good morning to Velna – and to Justyna and Jan Baptysta who I’m sure are squirrelling around the store somewhere, but I decide against it for once. I can’t face telling them about Sam and I. Since Jan and Justyna got married last Christmas they have been the most vociferous converts to the institution and seem unable to fathom why anyone would choose not to instantly leg it down the aisle as soon as they get together. I’ve lost count of the amount of times Justyna has raised her monobrow at me and said “ You vill be next” in her slightly threatening Arnold Schwarzenegger type voice.
I fold my arms as I look around the store. Even though my new job doesn’t strictly require it, coming in early is a habit I haven’t been able to lose since working in the stockroom. Early mornings are still when I have my best ideas. Old habits die hard and it is only when I see the store so devoid of people that new ideas for displays come to life in my mind. Ideas that will hopefully continue to draw the crowds to the store. I can only compare it to having a tidy desk, or a blank piece of paper in front of you. The store is a frame in which I can create my masterpiece.
At the moment, we still have the sale on, which is always a tricky time in a retail merchandiser’s calendar. Everything tends to look a mess on the shop floor, which is a pet hate of mine, and no retailer seems to care how to display the goods in order to best attract customers. I’ve never understood this, I mean, visual merchandising is all about helping to display goods in a way that makes people want to take them off the rails or shelves. So surely, we need brilliantly enticing displays even more during Sale periods, when we’re desperately trying to get rid of last season’s (or even older) stock, as well as anything we’ve bought that just didn’t fly off the shelves like we wanted it to.
That’s what I told Rupert when he suggested I just use the old neon cardboard sale signs that Hardy’s had been using for years. The ones exactly like those placards people hold on Oxford St directing you to the nearest golf sale
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