I ventured into Leicester on Monday before they locked us down again and those shutters of yours remained resolutely shut. Inside, I felt like Cathy calling to Heathcliff but there'll be no crashing through your doors yet I fear. Times are hard for all of us but it doesn't take a retail analyst to see the picture for the whole UK is gloomy. And yes, I do know Leicester is a hard place to make a profit. My maternal grandmother was from well-heeled Suffolk dynasty who described the people as 'penny-pinching'. Not true of course, it's high-end-motor and personalised number plate heaven here.
"They would skin a flea for a farthing..." was her favourite phrase but that only means we like a bargain. Who doesn't?
Remember me? I was there when you opened the Highcross Bridge for the first time in September 2008, shivering in my Body Shop uniform, earning 90% of national minimum wage with no hope of an annual bonus, and considering that I should have applied to you instead John. And now I'm imploring you to re-open when Boris finally allows us out of lockdown. With your doors flung wide, we stand a chance of keeping an element of quality in our retail cathedral. Leicester and the Shire will still be able to buy all those gorgeous things we didn't know we wanted until your store brought them to us. While I'm wallowing in nostalgia, think fondly on all those grooms who bought wedding suits on the second floor, and mothers-of-the-bride panicking over which outfits and matching shoes would work on the Big Day; where will they go? Although you could do with a specialist hat section and the underwear's a bit mumsy too, sorry.
It would be awful if Leicester fell from retail grace in the same way Northampton has been wrecked. There, the closure of M&S and Debenham's has left them with a market and very little else except charity shops, essentially driving paying customers to bland old Milton Keynes. Even you have to admit that retail has become homogenised lately but you could go on that diet and reinvent yourselves, come back to us as a "John Lewis Lite" in the style of the New Street Station store in Birmingham which has all the brands, just with less confusing mountains of stock. It would also be lovely to refresh the cosmetics department with a Charlotte Tilbury boutique and a MAC outlet for us more forward-thinking clientele. Don't throw a bucket of cold water on my ideas just yet. Better still, put a Waitrose on the ground floor to add spice to the store, then I wouldn't have to drive to Market Harborough (not at the moment obviously) to buy harissa paste and your excellent Essentials brown sauce for Alphonse, who has been complaining bitterly about his lacklustre beans on toast. You see John, no other sauce will do.
If you're in any way unsure that I mean all of the above, just take a look at your own Christmas advert for 2019. Edgar is a small, misunderstood dragon with a huge need to be loved and accepted by the people around him - well I think that's what it was about - and Dan Smith of Bastille singing the evocative words of REO Speed Wagon's "Can't Fight This Feeling" brought tears to my eyes. I can't fight it John ... I want you to stay with Leicester and fight too, and we will come back with a flaming Christmas pudding for the end of 2020.
With Love
Tip of the Beak: I've never written a 'Dear John' letter, fax or text before because I've never dated a 'John'. But I'm moved to write this one before I'm left bereft by the sight of our sad and still closed John Lewis store. Yes, the City of Leicester has scored another spectacular own goal with a spike in our Covid-19 figures but it doesn't mean we're bad people. It means that no-one will visit our fair city without wearing a mask, apron and gloves for a while longer. Just a word to the wise post-coronavirus, I wouldn't come without booking a parking space outside of your own house and carrying some extra toilet rolls either. We can't leave temporarily but just in case you're unsure of where we are, here's a helpful map.
Stay safe
Raven
