Julie Hamill: Shepherd’s Bush spectacles

Julie Hamill: Shepherd’s Bush spectacles

After my daughter Sadie announces that her eye test shows she needs glasses full time, I recommend a swerve away from our usual place in Kilburn to check out Pop Specs in Westfield, Shepherd’s Bush.

My own glasses are from Pop Specs, a pop-up kiosk in the centre outside the Apple store where glasses are made in 20 minutes. Just take your prescription, pick some funky frames and that’s it. Your specs are made while you browse in M&S.

We arrive to friendly smiles from the kiosk staff who tell us to help ourselves.  All frames are colour co-ordinated and displayed in glass cabinets.

Sadie tries at least 50 different styles in all shapes. After she describes one pair as “geeky lab assistant”, the assistant hands her a larger, more eccentric style, and we all get a good chuckle as she looks like Thelma from Scooby Doo, which I like, but she doesn’t.

The Thelmas are put back and she narrows her choice down to six pairs. One of the sales assistants advises her to sit down and try them all in front of a smaller mirror. She sits with us, which is a comfort to Sadie who doesn’t just want her mum telling her everything looks amazing.

Now down to the final two pairs, Sadie is inspired by her new advisor and plumps for a pink cat eye style, not something she’d normally choose.  They take some measurements with the glasses on Sadie’s face and tell us to come back in 20 minutes, when the prescription will be ready.

We go to eat at Tapas Revolution which is right at the centre of Westfield. Sadie laughs at me because I can’t see the menu without my glasses on.  She’s distance, I’m reading.

“Unfair!”  I complain.

I tell her a story from years ago of when her Dad, who also wears glasses, noticed a tiny hole at the front of his Mum’s, (Granny Bridget’s) favourite, most comfortable shoes whilst visiting her house in Dollis Hill.

“Why don’t you get a new pair of shoes, those ones have a hole in them?” he asked, to which Bridget replied,

“If the hole bothers you, don’t look at it.” She looked at me and winked.

Sadie and I laugh and agree that Granny Bridget had the most original and best comebacks.  Had she been alive she’d be sitting here in Westfield with us, insisting on paying for the food and the specs, and telling Sadie she looked like “a little model” in everything, and grabbing my hand to squeeze a tenner in it, fold my fingers round the note while telling me to “Shoosh now!”

We head back to Pop Specs.

“I can see absolutely everything now!”  Sadie says.  “These are perfect.”

We say our goodbyes and thanks again then follow the signs to the loo down the escalator.

After a few selfies in the Westfield ladies’, taking advantage of the good lighting on the new frames, we head outside to the interactive map to figure out how to get to Office shoes. It’s just up the escalator – and round from Pop Specs which we pass and they nod a polite “Hello again!” to us.

“Oh, Hello!” we call back.

After an unsuccessful try on of Mary Jane style shoes in Office, Sadie suggests visiting another shop for jeans.

“Let’s go to Hollister next.”

“I think that’s past Pop Specs again.”

“They’ll think we’re stalking them!”

I get what she’s saying.  For me, when a transaction is done, it’s done.  Seeing the person in the shop maybe one more time is okay, and sometimes nice, but repeatedly seeing them and having to re-hello gets awkward.  By no means am I being rude, I’m just not trying to be besties. How many times can you say hello?  It has to be awkward for the other party, too, no?  Sadie says more than two hellos is total cringe, and I’m inclined to agree.

In order to avoid this now ridiculously over-thought possible further encounter that neither of us want, Sadie suggests we walk along the perimeter of the shopping centre to avoid the kiosk. However with the sheer stupid big size of Westfield, I’m already done in, and that’ll take too long.

“I’ve already walked 14,000 steps visiting two shops!  Let’s just brass neck it.”

“Mum!”

“Come on, we’ll go fast and hide behind a crowd.”

Sadly, on the approach to Pop Specs we are spotted by the lovely staff, resulting in highly awkward exchange reminiscent of Father Ted with Polly Clarke.

Nevertheless, the more we cringe, the more we snigger.

“Let’s just get the tube after we’ve been to Hollister.”

“You know we have to past Pop Specs to get to the tube.”  I tease.

“Stop!  No!”  she nudges.

On the way to Shepherd’s Bush tube I think of Bridget, and how she might have told Sadie to ‘pop’ her ‘specs’ off, then she wouldn’t have seen anything at all.

She’d laugh at her own joke, mouth open wide, good and loud, our golden granny, who would have been eighty-eight today.

Julie Hamill writes novels, appears on Times Radio and does lots, lots more. Follow her on Bluesky. Support OnLondon.co.uk and its writers for just £5 a month or £50 a year and get things for your money too. Details HERE.

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