Shortlist - Colleagues
Playful in Jarrold
by Sue Garratt
July ’88, a penniless student
in need of some cash, a job would be prudent.
Perusing the papers, an ad caught my eye:
working at Jarrold the whole of July
and August, all summer; now what could be better?
I sent in my CV with handwritten letter
requesting this post, full of hope for recruitment,
keen to work in the toy department.
That summer we danced in Ritzy’s and Hy’s,
Cavorting to Kylie, gorging on George, playing til sunrise,
listening to INXS, drinking to excess,
I confess both ends of the candle got burnt, nonetheless
From 9 until 5, I would demonstrate toys:
Transformers, Diabolos, Lego, enjoying
the latest creations like Playmobil, Care Bears and Cabbage Patch Dolls.
A barrel of laughs, being playful in Jarrold’s,
the job was a blast: much better than most.
What a hoot on floor three, what a fabulous post.
And the highlight for me: fancy dress, in disguise
I’d pull on my costume, head off to surprise
innocent children out shopping with parents; they’d stare with wide eyes
as I bounded up aisles and danced around merchandise.
At times I was Garfield, grumpy and cynical
with plump rotund tum, kids thought he was magical,
droopy-eyed, stripy-tailed, a large orange feline.
And at times Mr Rabbit, long eared and leporine
from the land of Sylvania, an adorable creature,
folksy and wholesome, with rodenty features.
A friendly companion to 80’s childhoods,
dungareed and appealing, he lived in the woods.
Agreed, however, it was not always good inhabiting
that fabby rabbit’s skin, no air conditioning, often quite maddening,
sweaty furnace, red-faced, vision restricted,
dishevelled in Jarrold, I could not have predicted
the vandals-in-waiting who’d grab at my tail, and jab at my head
-yes, some ran amok, but most kids were awesome and awestruck instead.
Amused and amazed by this bunny, entranced and beguiled,
they were thrilled, they went wild with excitement, they giggled, while
full of delight at this sight, each child took their place
in the queue for a cuddle, a photo, a handshake. Sweet smiles lit up faces.
(an occasional tear, I admit.
Some were scared of this giant a bit)
Three decades ago, in those dog days, my salad days, hot heady heydays
Crazy for Gazza and Lineker, dazed
by the romance of Charlene and Scott on our screens,
life seemed much simpler, today just a dream.
Now that era is over, life moves on, we are gone in a heartbeat,
everything changes. But Jarrold remains in Exchange Street.
And the kids of those long-ago tots dance at Karma,
charmed by Capaldi, bopping to Stormzy, at Loft, arm in arm.
And one day they’ll bring their own families to Jarrold, their own little nippers:
they’ll enter through London Street’s pillars by Skipper,
wander past makeup and handbags, browse through the books,
homeware and cookware, fashion and furniture, looking
at luggage and gazing at gifts, then to the third floor
where they will be playful once more,
enjoying the toys, making memories galore,
in our finest old city - our finest old store.
Something about Jarrold
by Abi Armstrong
Hi, I’m Abi. I’ve worked at Jarrold in Norwich city centre on three separate occasions over the span of four years. I know, it doesn’t sound like much, but my time at Jarrold will always be important and significant in my life. This piece of writing will hopefully highlight why.
Jarrold is a family, in more ways than one.
For one, it is quite literally a family; in name, the business, and with many members of the Jarrold family working there alongside other colleagues.
Jarrold is also a family in a more metaphorical sense. It isn’t built like other modern department stores with sharp corners and fluorescent lighting. Instead, it feels like a home, and I would argue that it has a pretty special meaning to each of us.
Let me skip back a bit.
I, like many people, have long-since enjoyed visiting Jarrold in Norwich’s thriving city centre. I remember following Mum around the store as a kid; in the fashion department, pointing out the things that I liked; sitting on the furniture, pretending that I was old enough to have a flexible income for an interest-free-credit sofa; picturing shelves filled with books that I didn’t own yet; flipping through fabrics in haberdashery, imagining the dresses that I would make; brushing the tips of paintbrushes, thinking myself an artist.
Art is something that has been important to me for an awfully long time. I can acutely remember going into the art department at Jarrold when it was upstairs and following it when it migrated across the cobbled road to be on Exchangs Street, tucked beneath offices. This is where I bought my first paintbrushes from, and my first oil paint – which turned out to be the introduction to my long and enduring love for oil painting.
Jarrold is always my go-to for art products, and I have never known anywhere to be so well-stocked, with such high-quality products, paired with great advice from colleagues.
When I was fifteen, my year at school had to choose somewhere to complete our work experience. After a welcoming and engaging interview, I joined the team at Jarrold’s Art Department for two weeks. This is where I made my first few friends among colleagues, people I still care about today. I learnt a lot in those two weeks, about art, and work, and communication with people; it was an unbelievably valuable experience.
A year and a half later, it was the summer before my seventeenth birthday, and I would soon be starting Sixth Form. Once again, I turned to Jarrold, applying for a weekend job in the Art Department where I had made my start. The interview was with someone different this time and was just as positive as the first one. At the end of it, I stood up, smiling, and we shook hands.
I remember receiving the call about the job. I was helping to run Sports Day for my old high school and had just gone inside for a cup of water. Heart thumping, mind racing, sitting on the stairs in the Geography department, as a flurry of details were passed to me over the phone, and I realised I couldn’t do the job they wanted me to. Instead of rejecting me on the spot, they offered me something different: Mobile Sales.
For anyone who doesn’t know what this means, Mobile Sales is the retail equivalent of a substitute teacher. We would replace sicknesses, holidays, on any department where we were needed – sometimes booked in advance, other times it would be a surprise the morning of. All this meant that I was doing different things each week, and adapted to each department, and the people in those departments. I loved this job, and I made new friends each week.
I would say that there was never a moment that I felt out of place, but this just isn’t realistic. There will always be a time when your bad day overlaps with someone else. What was important, though, was that I didn’t take away the bad days, only the good ones.
After a little while, I was asked to become a permanent member of the Customer Service team, a place I had worked a few times beforehand. This also meant that I was connecting with a whole new group of people: Finance, and HR. And when we merged with online team, that became Ecommerce as well. This move also gave me a great opportunity to work more closely on achieving customer satisfaction by assisting with a wider variety of queries and concerns than I had done before.
I was reluctant at first to leave the freedom of being a Mobile, but I found fast comfort in the permanence of the new job; I spoke to and saw the same people each week, and they become part of my routine. I had a tray for myself, for the first time ever. I was trusted to open and close the office each Saturday. I started working Sundays as well, and then during the week when there was a holiday from Sixth Form.
Jarrold gave me something positive to focus on other than the nightmare of A Levels and the school that I didn’t particularly like. Jarrold gave me this wonderful second family, with people I love and memories I cherish (I’m fairly clumsy so a few of those are just my being laughed at in the office – for example, there was one instance where in my haste to get to the phone, my cardigan button caught on a cracked tray, leading me to drag the tray with me across the office).
Just like my family at home, we celebrated birthdays, Christmas, and New Year. We also processed spreadsheets, carried out data entry, and offered advice and support to each other with both customer queries and in our personal lives too. I learnt a vast number of new skills in terms of finance (and now I’m the Treasurer of a university society, so thank you for that), and communication (I can proudly say that friends delegate me to difficult phone calls), and workplace relationships.
And, yes, I still remember a few of the redial numbers for the phones. I am fairly certain they will be ingrained in my brain forever. As will Ali and Emma, fiercely protective, incredibly hardworking, and a great credit to Jarrold.
There was a lot more to this job than just work. Every time I go back to the shop, I feel as though I’m seeing old friends. I will never forget it, and I will always be thankful for Jarrold. It was my first job, and one I shall always remember.