What I’ll Miss Most Isn’t a Place—It’s the People of Old Town
Several months ago, my husband and I made the decision to move back to our home state of Pennsylvania to be closer to family. It felt very far off at the time, but now—with boxes nearly all unpacked in Philadelphia—I find myself in my last two weeks at The Hive. Alexandria has been so good to both of us. It was our first home as a married couple. We’ve made lifelong friends and mentors, grown together and individually, and simply had a wonderful time in a truly special town.
A friend recently asked me, “Won’t you miss this?” We were walking along the Potomac after doing some shopping and people-watching, the things one does in Old Town. I laughed and answered, “Well, I don’t usually do this.” Not that I don’t enjoy the occasional riverfront stroll or popping into shops, but most of my days in Old Town have been spent working. I feel like I’ve come to know the town not just as a visitor, but through the rhythm of its businesses. That’s what I’ll miss most—the people who make up the town, the familiar faces I see every day, especially those who’ve worked alongside me.
Working in the service industry is a remarkable thing: your real job is to hold people’s stories, both big and small. Fashion retail is often reduced to “I need new jeans,” or “I’m going to this event and have no idea what to wear.” But what people are often really saying is, “Can you help me see myself in this?” The same is true in the salon chair. People reveal who they are—their joys, sadness, aspirations, and hopes. We try our best to remember big life moments like weddings, promotions, losses, and new homes. But it’s the small things, the tough workday, the new haircut, the little victories, that build connection. These are the moments that help people feel seen, and that help us serve our clients better.
Shops and businesses are the heartbeat of places like Old Town. There’s no better way to understand a town than to work in service to its community, even if it’s “only clothes.” The friends I’ve made here have shown up for me in ways usually reserved for family. Some bring me coffee nearly every day. Others helped load the moving truck. One even knitted something to keep me warm on my daily walks in my new city. My biggest takeaway about Alexandria is that it shows up. It shows up for small businesses, it shows up for its residents, and it has shown up for me.
So yes, I’ll miss my favorite shops and lunch spots. But more than anything, I’ll miss my Hive gals—and I’ll miss all of you. Thankfully, the train runs between Philly and Alexandria. See you soon!
SEE ALSO: Goodbye (for Now), Annette: Join Us in Sending Her Off
