Goodbye.
You were always my go to after my long standing relationship broke down. Whenever I got the chance I'd leave and pop around to visit you.
You were pretty classy. Back in the day I bet you really turned heads and people would come from all over just to spend a little time with you. You made them feel special. You made them feel loved.
I'm not sure we ever had that kind of relationship.
Look, I know. I'm a bigger guy. That's not something that really attracted you. You preferred your guys slimmer. 32 - 36. Guys like me can be really needy, particularly if we aren't satisfied. Sometimes I'd have to leave without my pants.
But you knew I'd be back.
Sometimes we would go all the way to the top together. Because that was the way you swung. While the other guys were heading out of town to get their kicks, you were looking down on the whole of the city. Like you ruled it.
And that's what it felt like, looking down from that cafe. Like I ruled it too.
But times change. Brash young upstarts think they know it all, just because they are online and take a guys money for a click and a promise. The last few times I visited you there was a sense of melancholy had crept in. That we both knew it couldn't last forever.
Your days were numbered.
We all pretended that this was not the case. Maybe you'd hook up with a fresh faced billionaire who would get you the help you needed. But that jerk just wants your name so he can borrow more money and flash it around town with the Boohoo girls.
That guy is a jerk.
Maybe people don't see in you what I did. The history. The promise of a better life, or at least a decent set of sheets that you wanted to spend time under. Now all that is gone, like dust and memories, of a time when a friendly face and the ability to fold a pair of trousers mattered. When service and choice and quality mattered. When these things were aspirational.
My mother tells a story that when she was a girl, everyone dreamed of working with you. You were a gateway to a better life and a better lifestyle.
Your tombstone is still there of course. I'll pass it every day and mourn the lost stolen moments we shared together.
Rest in peace Debenhams. You belonged to a better time.
It's the staff I feel especially sorry for of course. For a hundred years it was a good job, and then it was a job, and then it was a bit of a shit job. And then they were furloughed.
And now there is no job. And no future.
People like browsing. They want to go to a space where they can browse. Where they can try stuff on. You could buy everything in a department store - that was the point. and slightly aspirational stuff too, that wouldn't fall apart like Vimes's boots the first time you wore them.
I shopped with two stores my entire life. M&S followed by Debenhams. And now what? M&S who accused me of attempted theft and fraud when I tried to return a coat? Is that what I am left with?
This race to the bottom is going to leave us there. At the bottom.
Debenhams staff had tea breaks and dignity. Amazon staff piss in bottles. Boohoo were implicit in the spread of COVID in Leicester, where they refused to shut down their factories. Where they were employing staff on less than minimum wage. When challenged they threatened to take their business elsewhere. By which I mean, sack all their UK workers and outsource the jobs to poorer countries with less regulations. The regulations their factories broke.
We lauded Philip Green. He trophied all the money and screwed over his staff. We lauded Mick Astley. We lauded the BooHoo guys. Fantastic British success stories every one, and each time the fuckers laugh at us.
But Debenhams and Selfridges and John Lewis stood for something other than a superyacht. They stood for quality and dignity. They stood for at least some modicum of workers rights. For some measure of social justice and mobility through capitalism.
So yes. I am going to miss them. But I will miss what they represent more.