Day 304: Shopgirl.

When I looked through my mail yesterday and saw a flyer welcoming me to a new L.A. clothing store called "H&M," I felt all warm and fuzzy inside.

Back in 1985 it was "H&M Hennes" (except on my nametag), but those of us who worked at London's Oxford Circus branch always referred to it as "Hennes." (I was the only American employee but never remembered that to them, I had an accent. I'd call another department, they'd say "Hi Karen," and I'd inevitably answer with, "How'd you know it was me?")

I decided to move to London after graduating from college, mostly because I had no idea what I wanted to do for a living. I thought being a waitress or clerk in London while I figured things out beat being one in Upstate New York. I entered a worker exchange program and landed in London on June 4, 1985, with no job and nowhere to live.

I kept a journal from the very beginning, and this afternoon, I read through it. All I can say is, there's a reason people keep journals. I'd forgotten so many details about my life there, but the journal brought them all back. It also brought back how quickly I slipped into "British Mode" - I can't help wincing at how pretentious I sound. (Did I really write, after only three weeks in London, that I'd had a "quite dreadful day at work" but didn't want to "get on about it" in my journal? Yes. I'm sorry to say I did.)

Oh well. I'm going to take myself with a grain of salt and let my journals help tell my story anyway.

I learned quickly that when it came to working for a living, I was a huge baby. (This has not changed.) I also realized I wanted jobs in life that would make me happy.

I made friends at work (and felt the need to both draw them and then rate my doodles) ...

And when we went out after work, I learned interesting things about myself that I wouldn't remember if I hadn't kept a journal (this entry in particular just kills me).

I spent much of my time in London pining for Garp, who eventually came to visit.

We had a wonderful time at first ...

But it ended badly.


Yeah ... right. We later resumed a romantic relationship of sorts, but deep down, I guess I always knew it wouldn't work out.

Eventually, it was time to say goodbye to Hennes so I could spend six weeks traveling through Europe.


Of all the entries in my London journal, though, two really stand out. First, I'm always amazed at A) how easy it is for me to get lonely, B) how I've never been happy with my appearance, and C) how I've never truly tackled B despite all that angst.

Second, I never realized it was in London that I figured out what I wanted to do with my life. I may not have known the details (and I never went to Fleet Street), but for the first time, I knew.


I'm glad H&M has finally come to the States. I guess I'll have to go over to the Pasadena store and take a look around. Maybe I'll even fold a misplaced sweater jumper or tidy up the panties knickers ... you know, just for old time's sake.