Leggings - Old Haunts
Posted by maisie on Thu, 10 May 2018
I went shopping for clothes for the grandchildren in the Debenhams, the department store on St. Stephens, it’s a place of old memories. I see myself, small, clutching at Grandfather’s hand walking through the store as we ventured down to the outside world. We’d stop by the doors to the shop, take a moment to brace ourselves, it was a moment before immersion. It was after I’d been known as Leah in America, a name I’d help choose after being threatened by the name Dorcas. People so loved to change me in some odd ways.
I’d come across Maine clothing in the USA and came to introduce it to Debenhams – as a positive reminder of what was out there. Their quality was high, and the clothes extremely wearable. I’m wearing one of their t-shirts today – and it looks good even though I’m older. I was only a child when I came back to the UK, as not being able to grow, had affected all parts of development. Fashion is good if it stays good over time. One day I’d like to revisit the USA – and find more wearable modern fashions for today’s modern woman. Maine was before it’s time when I first came to it. Worn by college students who loved the informality and texture of the clothes, who would want to wear solid work clothes in hard fabrics? It was on the edge of daring…
The store is still gracious, older now, and so am I. Large airy spaces where fashion comes together in segments. Prices are good throughout, depending on your needs. It’s well worth a visit or three. The shop assistant and I had fun with click and collect, as one item was out of stock. So, the old ways are moving aside in some areas. It’s a funny old world. While we were at that, a couple of ladies walked by, later than 45, I suspect, and one of them made a weird comment about who paid for my goods. She seemed to think she’d left a card with someone for me… Sounds a bit off, really, do they think I don’t speak?
As I was working out of the lift later, some young women pushed past me to get into the lift. If I had to guess, I’d say footballer’s wives. One of them said nastily, “Get out of our shop!”
I felt squashed! Stood there, grasping my crutch. Lit by the shop lights and hit by a stab of humour. How dare they? Who did they think they were? I wondered if it was possible to go up to the flat high above. Only I’m not sure its still there or open. He isn’t there to ask me if everything is alright. Later someone identified them as a family which might be entering royalty. They weren’t alike at all, so I’m surprised. They have a bad street Kred in Norwich. Or perhaps this is just a flam scam, to push the couple into a bad corner where no-one will like them for what they are. Anti-royalists abound it appears, and nothing, as my Grandfather would have told me, is what it appears in Norwich.
I am looking forward to making a return visit to the store soon & if you'd like a look at where the British go shopping... as well as our visitors... please go to...