CONFESSIONS OF A MALL MUM

Molly Gunn - 16 Feb 15

Dear Independent shops,

I’m sorry that I have strayed. It’s not you, it’s me. Or maybe it is you. I just want an easy life, and sometimes chain stores offer me that. I want a cafe I can pull a buggy into without running anyone over, and I want a loo with baby-change facilities and enough room to swing a cat, or a child, or two.

I hope that we rekindle our love affair soon..
x

The letter would go something like that…

You see, I’ve strayed from the cool, cultured, creative independent shops I used to love. I’ve dumped them, for brasher, cheesier, low-brow, bigger, commercial chain-store haunts. And I feel guilty, because I love it.

These days you are more likely to find me in Pizza Express than a cool little local Italian. I find it much easier shopping in House of Fraser than a stylish homewear shop off the beaten track. And shopping centres, of the sort I used to avoid, have suddenly become my mecca.

With two small munchkins in tow, if I need a shopping fix, I hotfoot it to EASY street… and who can blame me? Casual window-shopping in kooky shops up flights of stairs just doesn’t cut it any more. The buggy is always an issue. The kids knock things over. A nappy needs changing and there is no loo.

I discovered it might not be so easy to stick to my old haunts, soon after having my first son 4 years ago. My husband and I rocked up to our favourite pub, The Royal Oak on Columbia Road for lunch with friends.

Cue an embarrassing effort to get the buggy past the sea of hipsters to our table at the back, then with no room to leave it down, having to empty the contents of baby-paraphernalia so we could fold it up. Add the lack of chairs. Plus a floor so sticky it was a health hazard for baby-sitting (and usually my standards are pretty low), and a toilet so small, water-logged, with no loo seat, that baby-changing deserved a prize.

Novice new parents, thinking we could just rock up to our old haunts with a baby in tow and not a care in the world! When Raff started hysterically crying for no reason, we decided to call it quits on Sunday lunch, leaving our friends only 45 mins after we’d arrived.

I might get mobbed for saying this, but give me Pizza Express with its Piccolo meals, free balloons, sticker packs, any day. The old me would have never written that. But now, Pizza Express seem to know what I need as a mother, which sometimes feels even better than sex. Especially when they upsell me with a glass of wine at lunch time and the kids are happily amused with the free crayons.

It’s as if my tastes have dramatically changed. Do you know where I found myself on ‘Support our Small Shops day’ last year? John Lewis at Home, Tunbridge Wells. Not exactly a Small Shop.

As I pulled into the carpark, Radio 1 announced it was Small Shop Day, and the guilt hit me instantly. Mainly because I knew there was nowhere I’d rather be that day. Not only had I parked in a wonderfully roomy ‘mother and child’ space right outside the doors, but I knew it would be easy inside, too. The Trolley two boys could sit in. The cafe I could pull the trolly into. The loo I can pull a trolly into, too. The wide aisles. The effortless nature of the whole shebang.

To a tired, knackered, woman like me, in charge of an 18 month old, and 3.5 year old, John Lewis at Home felt like UTOPIA. Looking after two kids, negotiating nappy changes, toddler demands or just carrying a bag of ‘stuff’…it’s all made simpler in a space built for purpose. Which is why you find mums there. And old people.

Is it any wonder that at 9am at Westfield (Stratford or Shepherds Bush), you’ll find it choc full of mums who have been up since 6am, happily downing coffee while their buggies bother nobody, and toddlers run amock with no-one batting an eyelid? Where else can this happen?

The discount outlet McCarthurGlen is my new crush. Massive carpark. A babychange toilet so big that my sons danced in it (because they were playing Prince, full volume in the loos). Even the soundtrack makes me happy! There’s a playground for the kids. Wide boulevard so my kids can run like loons and I don’t panic about cars.

Those cash-hungry, corporate, clever people who run big shopping centres know what make mothers like us tick. They’ve got our number. They even know that we’ll probably stay longer if they play old hits on the shopping centre soundtrack. It works.

I feel guilty about this because I understand small shops need our support: I run a small independent shop with my husband for starters… and I used to ferret out small, cool, shops for a magazine.

Of course, I will never give up on independents, completely. But right now I much rather supporting them when I’m on my own – footloose and kid-free. Then, I’m happy to tackle steps. I don’t mind if I can’t swing a cat. I don’t mind squeezing between aisles. Or there being no loo. And visiting them on my own? Well, that time is truly precious.. bring it on. But actually I lied about the loo. I’ll always need the loo.

Motherhood is different for all of us… if you’d like to share your thoughts, why not join our Network & start posting?

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Molly Gunn

Molly Gunn is the Curator of Goodness at Selfish Mother, a site she created for likeminded women in 2013. Molly has been a journalist for over 15 years, starting out on fashion desks at The Guardian, The Telegraph & ES Magazine before going freelance in 2006 to write for publications including Red, Stella, Grazia, Net-A-Porter and ELLE. She now edits Selfish Mother and creates #GoodTees which are sold via TheFMLYStore.com and John Lewis and have so far raised £650K for charity. Molly is mother to Rafferty, 5, Fox, 3 and baby Liberty. Molly is married to Tom, aka music producer Tee Mango and founder of Millionhands. They live, work and play in Somerset.

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