I was invited to a friend’s wedding and visited London in early summer.

After settling into my usual hotel on St. James’s Street, I went to press my shirt for the wedding, only to realize I had left it behind in Tokyo. I lamented my predicament at the hotel bar, known for its world-class dry martinis.
“There’s a good, long-established shirt shop just around the corner,” the bartender told me. Shirts bearing proud royal warrants didn’t suit me. In the end, I went to Margaret Howell on Bond Street to find a replacement for the shirt I’d forgotten.
The shop was filled with the pleasant scent of herbs, and the space, where soft natural light and artificial lighting harmonized, felt wonderfully comfortable. It felt more like an atelier than a store. When I explained my situation to a sales associate, she responded with a smile, “That shirt is a classic, so we likely have the same one.”
She then brought over about five cotton white shirts and said with a smile, “Please choose one you like from these.”
“They are the same color and size, but each is made with the artisan’s hand, so the overall finish differs subtly. I’m sure there’s one here that resembles the shirt you forgot.
If it’s not among these, I’ll bring more.” I was deeply touched by her thoughtfulness. Finally, she said, “Have a wonderful wedding.”



When I told her what had happened, my friend listened with a smile and said, “That sales associate must be my friend. She’s the only one who would provide that kind of service. Thank you for sharing such a wonderful story.
But perhaps it was fortunate you forgot your shirt. You can write about this experience in an essay!” My friend seemed as delighted as if it had happened to her.


Back at the hotel, I immediately unfolded the shirt I had bought, ready to have it pressed. The shirt was indeed the same one I had worn for eight years. I tried it on against my bare skin. The comfortable feel against my wrists, elbows, shoulders, chest, and neck was unmistakable. I realized anew how much I loved this shirt.

The next day, upon arriving at the wedding venue, I rubbed my eyes when I saw the sales associate from the shop, dressed up for the occasion. Noticing me, she too looked surprised and laughed, “So today was the wedding!” I thought what a delightful coincidence.

During my trip, London enjoyed a spell of sunny weather. Wearing my white shirt, I spent enjoyable time with my friends.










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