In the old days you shopped at a variety of stores. Some of them sold cool, funky things and some of them played pumping house music in the background while you were in the changing rooms.
But now, much like your parents before you, you only ever shop in John Lewis. It may not be cool. The soft furnishing section may, frankly, look like a room-set from your Great Aunt Gladys’ house.
But John Lewis is safe. It looks after its staff which makes you feel better about shopping there. It has never knowingly undersold. It has a bra-fitting service. And it sells pretty much everything a growing family could need, from baby bouncers to fridge-freezers.
And crucially – and this is the bit that really counts - it has good changing rooms. You can breastfeed in them, you can change your baby’s nappy, hell you can have a full-on, 20 decibel argument with your partner about which baby bouncer to buy within listening range of at least 10 other mothers. Frankly there is really no need to shop anywhere else ever again, so why bother?
Showing posts with label changing rooms. Show all posts
Showing posts with label changing rooms. Show all posts
Friday, January 30, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
9 Cafes with pull-down changing stations
When you have a baby, some fundamental changes occur to your social life (understatement of the year, but you know what I mean).
You no longer worry about going to hip bars or cool clubs. You no longer spend Sunday mornings lazing around reading the papers, then ambling down to a sunny pavement café where you can take your time over a croissant and coffee before perhaps moving on to a double bill of old movies at the local arts cinema. (OK you may never have actually done this anyway, but at least the potential was there.)
You have two, perhaps three, criteria for places you can go out to now:
* Can I fit my buggy in through the door, and between the tables?
* Will the other people there give me dagger-like looks and mutter ill-concealed baby-hating comments under their breath the whole time, especially if my baby cries, or heaven forbid, actually breastfeed in public?
* Is there a toilet with a pull-down changing station? If it doesn’t have one – and let’s face it most don’t, you’re in Britain – is there a space on the floor large enough to lay down your baby on a changing mat that isn’t already covered in a pool of someone else’s wee?
If the answer to these questions is yes, congratulations, you have discovered the location for your new social life.
You no longer worry about going to hip bars or cool clubs. You no longer spend Sunday mornings lazing around reading the papers, then ambling down to a sunny pavement café where you can take your time over a croissant and coffee before perhaps moving on to a double bill of old movies at the local arts cinema. (OK you may never have actually done this anyway, but at least the potential was there.)
You have two, perhaps three, criteria for places you can go out to now:
* Can I fit my buggy in through the door, and between the tables?
* Will the other people there give me dagger-like looks and mutter ill-concealed baby-hating comments under their breath the whole time, especially if my baby cries, or heaven forbid, actually breastfeed in public?
* Is there a toilet with a pull-down changing station? If it doesn’t have one – and let’s face it most don’t, you’re in Britain – is there a space on the floor large enough to lay down your baby on a changing mat that isn’t already covered in a pool of someone else’s wee?
If the answer to these questions is yes, congratulations, you have discovered the location for your new social life.
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