I Tried Personal Shopping at John Lewis and My Broke Self Was Actually Shocked

Ok hear me out, when my friend Sarah first recommended I book a personal shopping appointment at John Lewis for the wedding of a college friend I burst out laughing. Personal shopping? As if!

I’m Macy, the woman who takes her entire family into Zara and walks out happy if she finds a blazer under forty quid. Asking for help browsing a department store sounded like admitting defeat on my own personal style. But honestly, John Lewis also felt like where my mother took me as a child ‘Shopping Munday’ to purchase sensible white blouses that would last me ‘til university.

John Lewis =.Utilitarian jumpers that looked like grandpa cardigans but cost fifty pounds. Flared cotton midi dresses with scarves tied around the waist.

Classic, yes, but maybe not what I was going for while being miraculously dragged around a department store by a professional personal shopper.

Sarah browbeat me until I booked an appointment at the Peter Jones branch (aka near enough Sarah’s house so she threatened to book it for me if I didn’t take action).

I walked into John Lewis feeling doomed. Poor florescent lit me walking into some woman half my age who loves raglan sleeve blazers and big ol’ statement necklaces, ready to internally scoff at everything she pulled out until she found the floral midi dress she was inevitably going to insist I try on complete with grandmother cardigan to match.

Caroline, who was likely in her fifties and looked absolutely fabulous in basic black trousers, striking blue shirt with funky sleeves and loafers I wanted to hate but definitely wouldn’t have looked out of place painting at an artist’s loft was nothing like I expected. Each item she wore was simple and well put together, but you’d be hard pressed to find an obvious designer logo jumping out at you. She had the cool-older-art teacher vibe and immediately put me at ease.

Our “personal shopping room” was another pleasant surprise. It didn’t feel fancy or posh, it just felt like a nice, private place to browse with flattering mirrors, nice lighting and – okay I’m not kidding on this one – a mini fridge full of water bottles and mini prosecco. “We pop those open when we find something you love” Caroline explained, and I was sold. She then asked me questions about myself that went beyond the standard “what’s your size? errand bridesmaids wedding?” questions.

What styles of clothing made me feel most confident? What colours do I like wearing (as opposed to what other people say I should wear)? She asked about work, where we were having the wedding (the garden!) what cars were we driving/train? – which actually mattered when it came to picking fabrics that wouldn’t crease since I was coming from London.

A woman who considered that information before picking outfits? Sold again. When I said I had a £300 budget for the whole outfit shoes included she didn’t even flinch.

No judgement when I said I didn’t want to spend it all, no awkward silence that made me question whether I should have clarified “maximum” budget. “Great!”, she said. “That gives us plenty to play with.” Friends. I live for that awkward budget conversation. I mentally budgeted the whole appointment around that 300 quid and was prepared to walk out if we went over.

Not Caroline. She disappeared for fifteen minutes while I sat impatiently on the white couch scrolling through Instagram and trying not to listen to the girl in the next room who was having way more fun trying on clothes than I was. She returned armed with a full-length rail crammed with options.

Some that I would have picked for myself had I been wandering aimlessly through the shop, some I would have walked straight past without a second glance. “I know you said you weren’t into florals, so I didn’t get too crazy in that department but I did want to show you a few options ‘outside the box’. You never know, you might surprise yourself and love something you didn’t think you would!” She beamed at me over her selections before squeezing back behind the curtain. First off, Caroline was witty.

There, I said it. My primary expectation going into this appointment was NOT to enjoy looking at clothes, Caroline ensured I would. She listened to what I liked and disliked while picking items I would actually wear, not forcing me into anything and not laughing at me in the fitting rooms when I hated something she picked (looking at you, midi wrap dress I still blame you for).

She had suggestions of her own, sure, but she also knew how to take them when I told her “nahhhh nothing against tomatoes but not really my colour“. She started with a deep green jumpsuit- something I knew I liked but hated shopping for because nothing ever seemed to fit quite right. Paired with gold block heel sandals and simple clutch, she had me pegged as soon as I slipped into the jumpsuit in the changing area.

Out popped Caroline to fix slouchy straps, folded the ruching in ways that actually looked like they were meant to be there and before I knew it I had a fully formed outfit that actually, I kind of loved. “Yeah good rack”, Caroline chirped as she typed away on her tablet. “But let’s see a few more before you decide!” And boy did we see some more. Slip dress and classy blazer that had me feeling 90s minimalist chic, wide leg trousers with an asymmetrically cut blouse that was oddly both slinky and classy, and THAT dress. The blue and white striped dress that looked atrocious on the hanger but Caroline insisted I try on anyway and I kind of want to marry.

She was careful not to go too wild with my ever-changing “ok but what about this?” selections because, quite frankly, I probably wouldn’t wear them every day. But she also understood that trying something new was the entire point of this and encouraged me to step out of my comfort zone – both literally and fashion-wise. Best part?

She wasn’t freaking pushing me to buy everything she brought me! I tried on the Alexander McQueen camisole she loved but knew was out of my price range,, mainly because my boobs are commitmentphobic and will not be contained by anything less than a Premier Support nursing bra. She rolled with it, recommended a cheaper but similar alternative and moved right along.

The final dress, a dusty red that I was totally going to skip because CMTBD (wrap dresses make me feel like a little girl playing dress up in my mum’s clothes*) ended up being THE ONE. As soon as I tried it on I knew. It wasn’t the silkier shimmery one with the column style skirt I envisioned myself buying seconds before walking into John Lewis, but when has that ever stopped me?

Honestly tho, I loved how it made me feel. The colour popped at my eyes, it fit well without being tight or obvious and it was easily something I could dress up or down for the wedding and weekend. I would have rocked that stupidly high slit with strappy sandals, but Caroline opted for suede ankle boots and a leather jacket that took it from “wedding guest default” to “didn’t someone dress me for this?”.

She even threw on a pair of sculptural brass earrings I spotted in one of their smaller designer collections. Edgy enough to make a statement, but not so out there that they upstaged the star of the show. The total? £275.

Under budget, and looked way more expensive than something I would have picked for myself. To say I was impressed with my appointment would be an understatement. I came into that stupidly lit John Lewis department store determined to make an article out how ridiculous personal shopping made me feel like wearing ugly backpack purses and leather loafers.

Instead, I came out with a new dress, boots, and an entirely different perspective on what personal shopping actually is. Allow me to introduce you to my shopping persona-non-grata: Personal Shopping at John Lewis.

It’s efficient, affordable, and actually pretty fun if you let it be!

Since my appointment, I’ve returned twice- once when I found that nearly all my work clothes shrunk after the great quarantine trousers dance of 2020 and once with my mum to update her wardrobe for my cousin’s college graduation.

Twice with Caroline, both experiences just as good as the first. My mum, who came worried that shopping with “someone my daughter’s age” wouldn’t understand what works for women ‘her age” left with a cute linen jumpsuit she’s worn more times than I can count and been nothing but complimented for.

I wore that damn red dress to death. Friends and family cried real tears at how good I looked at my friends wedding, even stylish Sarah immediately booked her own appointment with Caroline (and yes we are now friends). Dress and jacket were perfect for the ceremony and covered-up enough for the night reception, boots were comfortable enough to dance the night away and items from the outfit I’ve re-worn again and again in different configurations; dress and trainers for casual work events, boots with every pair of jeans I own, earrings with literally everything I own.

Moral of the story: John Lewis Personal Shopping is actually great. It’s quick, highly affordable and reminds me a lot like having a stylish best friend who literally lives and breathes John Lewis…And knows where the good shit is at all times. Best part?

It’s completely free. Their policy is you don’t owe them anything if you don’t want to buy, which was a huge relief for my broke ass but based on my experiences (and how many people I’ve dragged in with her since) you’ll totally want to! *I am well aware I am 32, an adult with entry into the magic women over 30 get dangly earrings club. Shut up, dress still makes me feel like a kid playing dress up.