Untangling a mixed-mojo（Grit & Glamor Epi.26)

When you face a tough decision, you either don’t do it or you do it scared. And if you can’t do it scared, ask for help. Though the answer is within you.

Previously:

At the start of 2006, I kicked off the New Year at the Shibuya store with a lively DJ event to mark the first day of our sale, followed by a guest appearance on an internet radio show — a promising start to the year. However, I was soon faced with the sudden decision to close my blog, a platform I had built independently and which had gained a strong following. Choosing to embrace change for the sake of growth, I decided to close it down and launched a new personal blog, “Fashion Source.” Later, during a meeting with the company president, my high hopes were dashed by unexpectedly harsh criticism. Overcome with emotion, I left the meeting abruptly, a breach of etiquette. My mentor reminded me, “Others reflect what’s within you,” prompting me to send a note of thanks to the president. This experience became a valuable opportunity for self-reflection and personal growth.

9.9 A Bad Feeling and a Good Feeling

On the day of the second seminar, January 20th, the venue was buzzing with energy. I was thrilled to see repeat participants, as well as male buyers who often stopped by the Shibuya store to scout it out, bringing their colleagues along. Additionally, some of my blog readers showed up, creating a lively crowd of over twenty people.

The theme for this seminar was “Turning Encounters into Action: The Secret.” Unlike the success stories from my time as an apparel store manager that I had shared in the previous seminar, this session took a different perspective, and I felt a bit nervous about the new challenge. Fortunately, the two professional coaches who had supported me last time were there again, and we even set aside time for the participants to experience coaching firsthand. I felt a surge of fulfillment when one attendee commented, “At first, I felt embarrassed to talk about my dreams in front of others, but actually saying them out loud felt so good.” Hearing that feedback reassured me that I’d been able to create the kind of experience I’d intended, and a sense of joy filled my heart.

When the seminar wrapped up successfully, I could feel my confidence slowly beginning to grow, thanks to the support around me. I started to think that maybe, just maybe, I could make it as a professional seminar leader. However, when I asked my mentor, “How many seminars do you think it would take before I’d feel comfortable?” he replied, “It’ll take at least fifty.” I couldn’t help but laugh, but at the same time, I realized how long the road ahead still was.

In February, my original bags were finally delivered. The larger men’s bags took up quite a bit of space, so I temporarily stored them in the locker room at the Shibuya store. But one day, the older assistant manager, who had always been warm and supportive, approached me with an unusually stern expression. “Ms. Horiguchi, this isn’t acceptable,” he said, and his words struck me like a dagger to the heart. A wave of unease washed over me as I wondered, “Maybe I don’t belong here anymore.”

Feeling down, I went for a walk around the Shibuya 109 area during my break. As I wandered, I had an unexpected encounter — a male store manager for a well-known Parisian brand was walking by, carrying one of my bags and beaming with a big smile. Seeing him like that, I felt as if my heart had been lifted. “Could this be some kind of sign?” I wondered.

I’d quit my blog suddenly, had a falling-out with the company president, and was now storing my personal items in the locker room — things that would be frowned upon in the world of corporate life. But in this new world, here was someone walking around happily with my bag. It felt as though two different worlds were existing simultaneously before my eyes, and the sensation was surreal. “Maybe this really is a sign to move forward into a new world,” I thought. Not long after, I ran into Mr. I, my other mentor, in Shibuya’s west exit area. This unexpected encounter made me feel that the time for a big decision was undeniably drawing near.

9.10 A Bold Decision

But could I really go independent? The mix of anxiety and excitement churned within me, until an idea suddenly came to me. I decided to reach out to my mentor, Mr. Kanai, via email.

On February 15th, I started my email with a bit of nervousness: “Today, I made an important decision.” I wrote about everything that had led me to this point. Up until now, I had put so much energy into my blog, POP displays, and customer management, contributing to increased sales through my own strategies. But recently, the company’s management style had become increasingly top-down, and I felt that my freedom to operate was being steadily constrained. “I can no longer find a reason for me to stay here,” I wrote, feeling a newfound clarity about my feelings as I typed.

I also mentioned how the more I heard about the company’s vision, the less confident I felt about being able to contribute. For the past month, a sense of unease had lingered in my heart. I hadn’t been able to pinpoint what it was, but now I knew — I couldn’t keep going like this.

That said, the idea of going independent right away didn’t feel realistic. I ended the email with a question: “Is there a place for me at your company where I could make a difference?” I wanted to find a new path for myself, and I expressed my genuine desire to work alongside Mr. Kanai on something more challenging.

The next day, on February 16th, I received a response from Mr. Kanai. “That’s a big decision,” his message began, and I felt a small weight lift off my shoulders. He went on to say, “If there’s a place where you can showcase your talents, I’d love for you to collaborate with us.” His offer to set up a meeting soon filled me with anticipation and excitement.

While I was solidifying my decision to embark on this new path, I knew I needed to inform my parents as well. Around this time, my mother would pass through Shibuya every Saturday for her ballet lessons, and we would sometimes have lunch together. During one of these lunches, I decided to tell her.

“Actually… I’m thinking of quitting my job and moving over to work with Mr. Kanai,” I said. My mother’s reaction was immediate: “What?! You’re…?” She looked shocked. Understandably so, since I had been trying so hard as a store manager, constantly testing new ideas, only to suddenly announce I was leaving.

But as I talked more about Mr.Kanai’s vision, my feelings of discontent with my current job, and the new possibilities I saw for myself, my mother’s expression softened. She looked at me, smiling, and even teased, “Your profile looks cute!” — she was clearly pleased, though hiding it behind humor. My parents, who had been surprised at first, were now encouraging me, saying, “Good for you!”

Reflecting on my luck to have found a wonderful mentor like Mr. Kanai, and the possibility of taking on a new challenge with him, I felt overwhelmingly grateful. With my mother’s understanding and Mr. Kanai’s support, I finally resolved to leave my company. I then sent an email to the division president to formally announce my decision.

My email exchanges with Mr. Kanai continued, and little by little, I started to see what role I might play at his company.

Yet, every so often, a small voice inside me would ask, “Is this really the right choice?” While the work with Mr. Kanai’s company seemed promising, part of me wondered if I would just be replicating my past successes in a different setting. Wouldn’t it be better to challenge myself with something completely new?

At this point, I felt caught between two conflicting desires: a yearning for stability and a pull toward the unknown. Stability offered comfort, but deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that my true calling lay elsewhere.

Even amidst this internal struggle, I continued to dedicate myself to my work on the sales floor. I applied my original method, “The Formula for Customer Service,” which combined coaching techniques, color analysis theory, and the power of positive energy and subconscious influence. This approach consistently produced results, and over time, I found myself wanting to share it with a broader audience.

To that end, I decided to spend my final days as an apparel store manager refining this method, preparing to package it into a DVD to help others learn the art of impactful customer service. I committed myself to honing the methodology in my daily interactions with customers, determined to leave with a legacy that could carry forward.