I follow their eyeline and realize they’re looking at my Florence Gainsbourg top. Instantly I feel self-conscious. I
shouldn’t be wearing it in public. If Sharon sees me I’ll be in big trouble.
My phone buzzes and I welcome the distraction. ‘Sorry, I’d better just get this,’ I say, and open my message.
‘ How did it go SG? ’
It’s from Sam. He calls me SG, short for ‘Stockroom Girl’, as a joke. He knows my name but he’s aware that none of the shop-floor staff does. In return I call him DG
(‘Delivery Guy’). I close the message down; I don’t want to deal with the embarrassment of telling him right now.
‘Sooo?’ Lily says, raising one perfectly pencilled eyebrow at me and nodding at my phone. ‘Was that him?’
‘Who?’ I ask, utterly lost.
‘The one you’re trying to impress?’ She points at my sparkly top then winks at me.
‘What? No,’ I splutter defensively. ‘That was just Sam, and this?’ I look down at the Florence Gainsbourg and feel faintly ridiculous. ‘This is just an . . .
experiment.’
‘In what?’ Lily sniffs. ‘Wearing clothes that look like they belong on an astronaut?’ She sees my face fall. ‘Oh, don’t get me wrong, darling, I just find
these modern clothes so . . . baffling. Coco Chanel would turn in her grave if she saw that.’
Reluctantly I concede Lily is right. This top is for a person far more glamorous and daring than I’ll ever be. It’s for someone like . . . well, like Carly.
‘So who is it for, then?’ Lily asks impatiently.
‘Sorry, what?’ I’ve drifted off again.
‘That!’ She gestures at my top. ‘Keep up, darling!’
‘Oh,’ I shrug, feeling bashful all of a sudden, ‘I . . . I don’t know really. I just wondered what it’d look like. I guess I’m a bit fed up of looking like
me.’ I note their concerned faces and I know I can always tell them how I really feel and that, most importantly, they’ll listen to me. ‘The truth is, I don’t want to be
invisible any longer. I’m sick of being overlooked and fed up of waiting for things to change, because they never ever do.’
‘I’ve never heard such nonsense!’ Lily exclaims. ‘So what if you didn’t get that promotion? Something else will come up. You just need to put some positive energy
out there. And as for the way you usually dress, well,’ she nudges me and winks, ‘you’re a beautiful girl but you could do with a leetle sprucing. Have you ever thought of
trying a rouge lippy?’
I giggle as I imagine myself as a mini-Lily, fifty years younger but nowhere near as fabulous. ‘I would if I thought I could look as wonderful as you,’ I laugh.
‘You know, darling,’ she says conspiratorially, ‘the best thing to do if you want to impress someone is be yourself.’
‘But, Lily, I told you I’ve got no one I need to impress.’ I drain my tea, grab my coat and stand up.
‘Aha!’ She waggles a finger at me. ‘Then for the time being just focus on being happy with yourself. You’re perfect just the way you are.’
I smile at them both gratefully. ‘You have cheered me up enormously, much more than this silly top ever could. Thank you, ladies.’
‘Bye-bye, dear girl,’ Iris says, and waves regally. ‘See you next month!’
I’m lost in thought as I head back towards the stairs. I decide to go up to Personal Shopping on the first floor to see Carly and find out what happened with the dashing
bloke she saw earlier. The store is, as usual, totally empty. I pass through the ground floor and spot Gwen and Jenny standing at opposite ends of their department, bored-but-desperate smiles
painted on their faces, atomizers in hand ready to spritz the first person that comes along. I glance over at Handbags and see that Becky is still examining her pores. Up on the first floor I can
just see poor Jane in Lingerie, slumped against the balcony, eating a cake whilst sorting beige bras into piles, and Barbara in Shoes is sitting on her
shouldn’t be wearing it in public. If Sharon sees me I’ll be in big trouble.
My phone buzzes and I welcome the distraction. ‘Sorry, I’d better just get this,’ I say, and open my message.
‘ How did it go SG? ’
It’s from Sam. He calls me SG, short for ‘Stockroom Girl’, as a joke. He knows my name but he’s aware that none of the shop-floor staff does. In return I call him DG
(‘Delivery Guy’). I close the message down; I don’t want to deal with the embarrassment of telling him right now.
‘Sooo?’ Lily says, raising one perfectly pencilled eyebrow at me and nodding at my phone. ‘Was that him?’
‘Who?’ I ask, utterly lost.
‘The one you’re trying to impress?’ She points at my sparkly top then winks at me.
‘What? No,’ I splutter defensively. ‘That was just Sam, and this?’ I look down at the Florence Gainsbourg and feel faintly ridiculous. ‘This is just an . . .
experiment.’
‘In what?’ Lily sniffs. ‘Wearing clothes that look like they belong on an astronaut?’ She sees my face fall. ‘Oh, don’t get me wrong, darling, I just find
these modern clothes so . . . baffling. Coco Chanel would turn in her grave if she saw that.’
Reluctantly I concede Lily is right. This top is for a person far more glamorous and daring than I’ll ever be. It’s for someone like . . . well, like Carly.
‘So who is it for, then?’ Lily asks impatiently.
‘Sorry, what?’ I’ve drifted off again.
‘That!’ She gestures at my top. ‘Keep up, darling!’
‘Oh,’ I shrug, feeling bashful all of a sudden, ‘I . . . I don’t know really. I just wondered what it’d look like. I guess I’m a bit fed up of looking like
me.’ I note their concerned faces and I know I can always tell them how I really feel and that, most importantly, they’ll listen to me. ‘The truth is, I don’t want to be
invisible any longer. I’m sick of being overlooked and fed up of waiting for things to change, because they never ever do.’
‘I’ve never heard such nonsense!’ Lily exclaims. ‘So what if you didn’t get that promotion? Something else will come up. You just need to put some positive energy
out there. And as for the way you usually dress, well,’ she nudges me and winks, ‘you’re a beautiful girl but you could do with a leetle sprucing. Have you ever thought of
trying a rouge lippy?’
I giggle as I imagine myself as a mini-Lily, fifty years younger but nowhere near as fabulous. ‘I would if I thought I could look as wonderful as you,’ I laugh.
‘You know, darling,’ she says conspiratorially, ‘the best thing to do if you want to impress someone is be yourself.’
‘But, Lily, I told you I’ve got no one I need to impress.’ I drain my tea, grab my coat and stand up.
‘Aha!’ She waggles a finger at me. ‘Then for the time being just focus on being happy with yourself. You’re perfect just the way you are.’
I smile at them both gratefully. ‘You have cheered me up enormously, much more than this silly top ever could. Thank you, ladies.’
‘Bye-bye, dear girl,’ Iris says, and waves regally. ‘See you next month!’
I’m lost in thought as I head back towards the stairs. I decide to go up to Personal Shopping on the first floor to see Carly and find out what happened with the dashing
bloke she saw earlier. The store is, as usual, totally empty. I pass through the ground floor and spot Gwen and Jenny standing at opposite ends of their department, bored-but-desperate smiles
painted on their faces, atomizers in hand ready to spritz the first person that comes along. I glance over at Handbags and see that Becky is still examining her pores. Up on the first floor I can
just see poor Jane in Lingerie, slumped against the balcony, eating a cake whilst sorting beige bras into piles, and Barbara in Shoes is sitting on her
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