Joy

Oh Joy. Who are you kidding with this shop?
Joy is a fabulous clothes shop. It’s cheap, it’s just a little bit different so you don’t look like all the other Topshop carbon copy kids. And it’s chock full of dresses. I’m all about the dresses, that’s why I come here. Unfortunately, Joy insist on doing a line in utterly tacky homewares and gifts. The kind of crap you used to buy your mates for Christmas. Certainly not the kind of stuff you want to buy once you get over the age of 17.
But the insist that a bit of their shops have to be ruined with this useless tat. Except this branch, which is covered in the stuff. One teeny tiny little room packed with clothes, and that’s it. The rest is rubbish that is going to wind up left of someone’s desk after a secret santa. Yet despite being such an awesome London brand, this shop has none of the goodness, and none of the nice dress. It’s the worst branch I’ve ever been in. I’m basically only giving it two stars because I think it’s in a cool building, and I probably should have bought that expensive sweater that I saw. But I can buy that in the nice pretty branch in Greenwich, and I won’t have to wade through a pile of breast shaped stress balls to get to it,